During the ride to London Leicester was very silent. The car swept swiftly along the now almost empty roads, and presently stood outside the club where we first met the man whose story I am trying to tell.
Directly they entered the smoking-room, Leicester ordered a large whisky, which he drank quickly. It seemed as though his abstinence at Mr. Castlemaine's had caused cravings which he was eager to appease.
"Well," said Purvis presently, "you've taken the first step."
"Yes, I've taken the first step."
"I say, Leicester, give it up – it's not right."
Leicester shrugged his shoulders.
"Even if you succeeded it would be – "
"You mean that I am not worthy of her?"
"You know that yourself."
Leicester laughed.
"You see you rush to whisky the moment you get back."
"Well, she knows all about it."
"How?"
"You told her – and you told her father too."
Purvis's eyes dropped.
"Oh, don't be downcast, my dear fellow," said Leicester mockingly. "I gave you liberty to tell them, and you took advantage of my permission. And you told her all the rest, too. Oh, I know you well enough for that, and on the whole I'm glad. But mind," and he rose to his feet like a man in anger, "if you let on about the rest – "
"You mean the wager?"
"Call it what you like – if you or Sprague let on about that, then, to quote your Bible, it were better that a millstone were hanged about your neck, and you were cast into the depths of the sea."
Purvis shrank before the savage gleam of the man's eye.
"You – you surely don't mean that – that you are going on with – with this business?"
"Yes, I am," replied Leicester. His voice was quiet, but he spoke like a man in anger. "I am going on, and – and – if you do not play the game – well, you know me, Purvis."
"Of course a promise is a promise," said Purvis; "all the same – "
"Go to bed, my son," said Leicester mockingly. "I think you'll be all right now."
If Purvis had remained he would have been almost frightened at the look which came into Leicester's eyes.
CHAPTER V
THE STRENGTHENING OF THE CHAIN
For the next few days following the night of the dinner at John Castlemaine's house, a change seemed to have come over Radford Leicester. He became less hopeless, and he did not drink so freely. It might seem as though an evening spent in the society of a good woman had a beneficial effect upon him. He did not take any further steps to carry out his avowed intention, but when he spoke of women it was with less bitterness.
Both Sprague and Purvis noticed this, and both wondered what it portended. Could it be that Leicester meant to reform, or did it mean that he was simply playing a part, in order to win the woman he had boasted he could win?
Nevertheless he was moody, and seemed unhappy. He met these men sometimes at the club, but spoke little. Moreover, in public he was very abstemious, so much so that even the waiter noticed it.
"Is he turning over a new leaf?" asked Purvis of Sprague.
"If he is, he is not playing the game," replied the other.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because it was understood that he should win her on the understanding that he was an atheist and a drunkard."
"But surely you don't object to his reforming?"
"No, of course I should be only too glad if he did, only in that case all the point of our discussion would be gone."
They were, during this conversation, sitting in the club where we first met them, and just as Purvis was about to reply to the other Leicester entered the room. He looked even paler than usual, and the dark rings around his eyes suggested pain either physical or mental. No sooner did he see them than he walked towards them, as if glad of an opportunity of companionship.
"How are you, Leicester?"
"I have a beastly headache," he replied.
Sprague and Purvis looked at each other significantly, a look which Leicester noticed.
"No," he said, "don't draw your conclusions. I have not been drinking. It's that confounded constituency."
"Why, anything happened there?"
"No – nothing of importance. It's only the old game. This man has to be written to, and the other man has to have a certain statement explained. I'd give up the whole thing for twopence."
"Where would your career be then, Leicester?"
"Hang the career," he said moodily.
"It's all very well to say that, old man, but a great deal depends on it."
"What?"
"Well, your future – your future in Parliament, and your future matrimonial arrangements."
He gave the two men an angry look.
"Surely that's my affair," he said.
"Sorry to contradict you, old man; but it is our affair too. That hundred pounds, you know."
Leicester gave expression to a sentiment which was more forcible than elegant.
Sprague looked at him eagerly. Ever since the night when we first met these men, he had cherished anger in his heart towards Leicester. He felt that this man despised him, and he was glad of the opportunity of giving him one, as he termed it, "on his own account."
"Our gallant warrior is afraid to fight," he said with a sneer.
Leicester started as though he were stung. The look on Sprague's face maddened him. For Leicester was in a nervous condition that night. His abstention from spirits was telling on him terribly. Every fibre of his being was crying out for whisky, and every nerve seemed on edge.
"What do you mean, Sprague?" he demanded.
"I mean that our gallant warrior is pulling down his flag," said Sprague. "He has found out that the citadel cannot be easily taken, and he's ready to give up without striking a blow."
Leicester looked on the ground moodily. In his heart of hearts he was ashamed of the whole business, but he felt he would rather do anything than confess it before these fellows.
"I hear he's turned teetotaller, too," went on Sprague, who seemed anxious to pay off old scores. "Who knows? we may see Leicester posing as a temperance advocate yet."
Leicester rose to his feet as if unable to contain himself. To be sneered at by a man like Sprague was too much. He seemed about to give vent to an insulting remark, then as if thinking better of it checked himself. He rung a bell which stood on the table.
A waiter came in answer to his summons.
"Whisky," he said.
"A large or a small one, sir?"
"Bring – bring a bottle," he said savagely.
"I say, Leicester, don't do that!" said Purvis.
"Don't do what?"
"Don't start drinking again."
Again Leicester was almost overwhelmed with anger. How dare these fellows seek to interfere with him!
"May I ask my dear Moody and Sankey when the control of my actions came within your province?" he said, with a strong effort at self-control.
"Don't take it in that way, old man. I'm sure you are ashamed of the other business, and – "
"What business?"
"You know what business. You can't go on with it. You would never have thought