"What I have further to say to you," continued Grey, "is in the nature, Sir William, of a confession. A confession so degrading and humiliating, that I have debated a thousand times whether I should make it or put an end to my life."
"I am sincerely glad you adopted the alternative of confiding in me."
"Sir William, what do you consider the greatest calamity which could befall Miss Midharst?"
"Really I have not thought of such a question, and could not answer it off-hand."
"What would you do to the man who behaved in an unscrupulous manner to Miss Midharst?"
Suddenly the young man lost his languid manner, sat bolt upright in his chair, looked with a strong present interest in his eyes at the banker, and demanded sharply: "What do you mean?"
Grey raised his head, and for the first time the eyes of the two men met.
"A terrible injury, an irreparable injury; who had inflicted upon her an injury so great that the sacrifice of his life could not atone for it, not the devotion of a lifetime undo it?"
"Shoot him. Where is he?"
Grey opened the black bag, took out the revolver, and holding the muzzle pointed at his own breast, handed it to the baronet, saying: "I am he. Fire."