he knew himself. Such resignation I had
never dreamt of. It was utterly new to me. I used to think of
resignation in a vague way as of something rather beautiful; ever
since, I have thought of it with impatience: resignation is the
courage of the irresolute. Oscar's obstinacy was the obverse of his
weakness. It is astonishing how inertia rules some natures. The
attraction of waiting and doing nothing is intense for those who live
in thought and detest action. As we turned into Oakley Street, Oscar
said to me:

"You are not angry with me, Frank?" and he put out his hand.

"No, no," I said, "why should I be angry? You are the master of your
fate. I can only offer advice."

"Do come and see me soon," he pleaded.

"My bolt is shot," I replied; "but I'll come in two or three days'
time, as soon as I have anything of importance to say.... Don't
forget, Oscar, the yacht is there and will be there waiting until the
20th; the yacht will always be ready and the brougham."

"Good night, Frank," he said, "good night, and thank you."

He got out and went into the house, the gloomy sordid house where the
brother lived who would sell his blood for a price!

* * * * *

Three or four days later we met again, but to my amaze Oscar had not
changed his mind. To talk of him as cast down is the precise truth; he
seemed to me as one who had fallen from a great height and lay half
conscious, stunned on the ground. The moment you moved him, even to
raise his head, it gave him pain and he cried out to be left alone.
There he lay prone, and no one could help him. It was painful to
witness his dumb misery: his mind even, his sunny bright intelligence,
seemed to have deserted him.

Once again he came out with me to lunch. Afterwards we drove through
Regent's Park as the quietest way to Hampstead and had a talk. The air
and swift motion did him good. The beauty of the view from the heath
seemed to revive him. I tried to cheer him up.

"You must know," I said, "that you can win if you want to. You can not
only bring the jury to doubt, but you can make the judge doubt as
well. I was convinced of your innocence in spite of all the witnesses,
and I knew more about you than they did. In the trial before Mr.
Justice Charles, the thing that saved you was that you spoke of the
love of David and Jonathan and the sweet affection which the common
world is determined not to understand. There is another point against