It was approaching seven o'clock before his eyes fell on the little heap of letters on the smoking-room table, and from sheer restlessness he took them up and opened them one by one.
A bill—a note from a man asking him to play golf—a letter in Miss Chester's writing, sent back from Scotland, and a note without a stamp.
He was about to throw the last listlessly aside as of no interest, when he recognized Feathers' writing.
With his heart racing, he broke open the flap and for a moment everything swam before his eyes, so that he could not read a word.
Dear Chris,—I rang you this morning, but they said you were out, so I am writing and sending the note by hand, as I want you to get it as soon as you come in. You will know by the time you receive this that your wife has left the house. If you had not come to my rooms last night and told me what you did, God only knows in what a tragedy we might have found ourselves. This morning I did my best to set things right, but I was too late, so am writing this note to you. You know the Yellow Sheaf on the Oxford road near Somerton Lock? If you will be there this evening at half-past seven you will find Mrs. Lawless. I know this is the end of our friendship, and through my fault My only excuse is that I thought I was a strong man, but perhaps we are all weak when it comes to the test— Feathers.
Half-past seven! It was nearly seven now, and Somerton Lock was forty miles away.
Chris never knew what happened during the next hour. He only came to himself again as he was driving like a madman through the darkening night, the cool breeze stinging his face.
She had gone—and with Feathers! His best friend had failed him, had lied to him and dishonored him! There was murder in Chris' heart as he stared ahead into the darkness and tried to control his thoughts.
284 Twice he took the wrong road, and had to turn back, cursing and praying, and almost sobbing in his fear.
The darkness seemed to deepen in order to hamper him. As he neared the river a slight dip in the road plunged him into a thick mist that was almost a fog.