Was it necessary? Inevitable? To be cast aside on life's highway in suffering and shame everlasting; to be like a wretched ship that lies at the bottom of the sea, swaying to the ground-swell below, and moaning like a lost soul to the moans of the other wrecks in the womb of the ocean?
It was not as if he had injured anybody. He had done harm to nobody, and nothing. Yet he must do what he had thought of. There was no help for it.
It was late. The household was asleep. The log fire he had been crouching over had fallen to ashes on the hearth. He was shivering and he got up to go to bed. Before leaving the library he sat at the desk under his mother's picture and wrote—
"Please call me at six. I must take the first train to Douglas."
He was laying this on the table on the landing, lighting his candle and putting out the lamp, when he heard wheels on the carriage drive, and then a loud ringing at the front door bell.
Who could have come at this time of night? Candle in hand he went down and opened the door.
It was Joshua Scarff.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
"HE DROVE OUT THE MAN"
"Sorry to trouble you at this hour, your Honour, but I had to come and tell you what has happened."