For the first time Sprague felt that he had pierced the weak place in Leicester's armour. He knew now that the man who had laughed at him was afraid of him, and he determined to take advantage of the position he held. It would help him to pay off old scores.
"If you will assure us that you are sincere in this new role you are playing," said Sprague, "and if you will promise never to touch drink of any sort again, it might be that——"
But Leicester did not allow him to finish the sentence. He rose to his feet in his passion.
"Promise you!" he cried, "Promise you!" He laughed bitterly, and scornfully. Then he sat down again, ashamed of himself for having allowed a man like Sprague to anger him so. "You mistake yourself," he said. "A gentleman does not argue with a cabman, or invite his laundress to dinner. You are presuming too far." He hesitated again for a second. "No," he went on, "I shall not promise anything, nor profess anything. I simply tell you that no word of this affair must pass your lips."
Sprague, stung by Leicester's words, was about to retort angrily.
"No, no, wait a minute," said Leicester, who now spoke very quietly. "Look at me for a moment—that's it. Now, you know me. You know that I am not tied down to claptrap morality. And you know this, too, when I say a thing I'll do it, ay, even if I have to swing for it. I'll do it. Whatever part I play elsewhere, I'm not playing a part now. I am in deadly earnest, and the devil always helps the man who is faithful to him. Well, I say this: if either of you breathe one word concerning that compact of ours—one word, mark you, especially to Miss Castlemaine—then no leper on a leper island shall suffer what you shall suffer, no victim of the Inquisition invented by your religious teachers has ever gone through the torments which you shall go through; no hell that was ever invented shall be as ghastly as the hell I will drag you through."
"You mean she would throw you over if she knew."
"No matter what I mean; but remember this, I am a man of my word, and I am in earnest about this. Winfield I know is safe, he is a gentleman, and he's not a rejected lover; but you others—well, I have said my say."
He left the club as he spoke, while the three men looked at each other wonderingly.
For some time after this nothing happened to disturb the serenity of Leicester's life. Little by little he was mastering the drink craving, while his outlook on life made him more and more cheerful. Olive Castlemaine had indeed wrought a wondrous change. When he was in her presence, at all events, the old Leicester was gone, and a new and happier man had taken his place. It is true Olive was not demonstrative in her affection towards him, but he was content, and as the wedding-day drew near it seemed to him that his happiness could not continue. The sky of his life was too bright, the joy was too great. Especially did he feel this on the evening before the day fixed for their wedding. He had come down from town to dinner, and when, after he had smoked a cigar with John Castlemaine, he and Olive were alone, it seemed to him as though his present happiness were a dream, and that he would presently awake to grim and stern realities.