"I am miserable, Verney."
John said nothing. His tutor rose and began to pace up and down the study; then, halting, facing John, he spoke quickly, with restless gestures indicating volcanic disturbance.
"I'm between the devil and the deep sea," he said, "as many a better man has been before me. I thought I'd wiped out the grosser evils in the Manor, but I haven't—I haven't. Do you know that a fellow in this house, perhaps two of 'em, but one at any rate, is getting out at night and going up to town? You needn't answer, Verney. If you do know it, you are powerless to prevent it, or it wouldn't occur."
"Thank you, sir."
"I can only guess who it is. I am not certain. And to make certain, I must play the spy, creep and crawl, do what I loathe to do—suspect the innocent together with the guilty. It's almost breaking my heart."
"I can understand that, sir, after what you have done for us."
Warde smiled grimly. "I don't think you do quite understand," he said slowly. "At this moment I am tempted, tempted as I never have been tempted, to let things slide, to shut both eyes and ears, till this term is over. Next term"—he laughed harshly—"I shan't stand in such an awkward place. The deep sea will always be near me, but the devil—the devil will be elsewhere."
John nodded. His serious face expressed neither approval nor disapproval to the man keenly watching it. Afterwards Warde remembered this impassivity.
"If I do not act"—Warde's voice trembled—"I am damned as a traitor in my own eyes."
John had never doubted that his house-master would act. As for creeping and crawling, can peaks be scaled without creeping and crawling? Never——