"I must give myself up. I'm not the sort of fellow to play the hiding game successfully. I'm safe to be caught sooner or later. I deserve punishment, too—I've been doing badly for months. What I deserve, it seems likely I'll have. In short, I think I'd better make a clean breast of everything, and take my—my punishment like a man."
"Do sit down for a minute," said Lawson. "There's a good deal in what you say, and if you had only yourself to consider, I'd counsel you to do it—I would, truly; but there's your mother to be thought of."
"My mother! Don't you suppose I've been thinking of my mother all night? It is the thought of my mother that maddens me—maddens me, I say. Look here, Lawson, there's only one thing before me: I'll go first to mother and tell her everything straight out, and then I'll give myself up."
"You will?" said Lawson, with a start of sudden admiration. "Upon my word, George, old chap, I didn't think you had the grit in you—I didn't, truly."
"Then you approve?"
"It is the only thing to be done; she must hear it, sooner or later, and no one can tell it to her as you can."
"All right; I'll go to her before my courage fails me."
George left the room without even saying good-by to his friend.
When he left the house, he turned round and saw the man whom he had noticed watching him the day before at Waterloo Station.
"I'll be ready for you soon, my friend, but not quite yet," muttered the young man.