The clergyman made a deprecatory face.
"I've absolutely promised not to tell," he said. "And you know—"
"But that's ridiculous. We've come on purpose to fetch him away. It simply mustn't go on. That's why I didn't write. I sent Frank's letter on to Mr. Guiseley here (he's a cousin of Frank's, by the way), and he asked me to come up to town. I got to town last night, and we've come down here at once this morning."
Mr. Parham-Carter glanced at the neat melancholy-faced, bearded man who sat opposite.
"But you know I promised," he said.
"Yes," burst in Jack; "but one doesn't keep promises one makes to madmen. And—"
"But he's not mad in the least. He's—"
"Well?"
"I was going to say that it seems to me that he's more sane than anyone else," said the young man dismally. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but—"
Dick Guiseley nodded with such emphasis that he stopped.