Underlying the whole terrible perplexity was a novel dread of meeting Gastineau. Herriard determined that he would return to his chambers at once and write a letter which should break their acquaintance in unmistakable terms once for all. Fortunately there would be no need to touch upon this last reason; Gastineau’s expressed opinion of Alexia’s guilt was quite sufficient to justify her future husband in ceasing to be friendly with him; indeed it was the course which honour indicated.
So, turning over in his mind the most effective wording of the letter, Herriard walked back to the Temple. He would write the letter and post it at once; so it would be off his mind, and the sooner he could make Gastineau show his hand the sooner would his suspense be at an end.
He went in, lighted a lamp and began the draft of his letter, the most distasteful he had ever had to write, but as imperative a task as it was repugnant. He wrote: “I have not been able to keep my appointment with you this evening. I had a long consultation after the Courts rose, and have been kept in chambers by other business which I did not foresee. But there is another reason why I am not coming on to see you to-night. Our meetings of late have shown me that we are no longer working harmoniously together as formerly. Whose the fault it seems scarcely worth considering, but the fact stands that our differences are becoming daily more accentuated, and we are, above all, seriously at issue upon one, to me, most vital point. I think, then, that it is time our connection came to an end, as our friendship seems already to have done. Your restoration to health and active life obviates any reproach which I might otherwise incur. The time for separation is apt, and you will understand that I could not continue to meet on terms of friendship a man who accuses of a terrible crime the woman who will shortly be my wife and of whose innocence I am absolutely convinced. This determination, to which I see no alternative, in no way contradicts the sense of my obligations to you. Your advice and help in——” he stopped. He could hardly be churlish enough to part from Gastineau without an acknowledgment of all he owed him. And yet was it wise or safe to put down that indebtedness in black and white, and give it to this abnormally unscrupulous man?
Herriard’s whole legal training and experience told him it was rash and dangerous, nothing less than the forging of a very effective weapon to be used against himself.
Yet if the fact of their partnership was ever to be brought up against him, he told himself, he would not deny it, even could he do so successfully. He had done with him now, he was resolved; and by the truth he stood ready to atone for what had been false in his career. Still that was no reason why he need make his acknowledgments to Gastineau in so explicit a form that all the world might comprehend exactly what their connection had been. He drew his pen through the last words of the draft and began the passage again.
“To your advice——”
A knock came at the outer door. It startled him disagreeably, ominously. He laid down his pen, wondering who this late visitor could be. Opening the door he found himself face to face with the man on whom he would have been glad never to set eyes again.
“You, Gastineau?” he exclaimed, in a negative tone.
“I,” came the almost jeering response. “I hope I have not startled you.”
As Herriard drew back, Gastineau walked past him into the entrance lobby with the air of a man who could dispense with an invitation and would take no refusal. Herriard closed the door, and, indicating the way, followed him into the room.