ooked at him with a half-gasp of consternation, bewildered by
the very boldness with which he was thus set down. Betray himself--he
drew a long breath, as if he had received a _douche_ of cold water in
his face, which was indeed very much like the effect that this
extraordinary address produced--betray himself! Poor Cotsdean's
struggles and sufferings arose, at the present moment, entirely from the
fact that he had allowed himself to be made use of for Mr. May's
occasions, and both the men were perfectly aware of this. But though he
gasped, Cotsdean was too much under the influence of his clergyman to do
anything more. Had he been a Dissenter, he would have patronized young
Northcote, who was as good a man as Mr. May (or far better if truth were
told), with the frankest certainty of his own superior position, but
being a humble churchman he yielded to his clergyman as to one of the
powers that be. It is a curious difference. He sat still on the edge of
his chair, while Mr. May walked across the room to the table by the
door, where his _cafe noir_ had been placed, and took his cup and drank
it. He was not civil enough to ask his visitor to share it, indeed it
never would have occurred to him, though he did not hesitate to use poor
Cotsdean for his own purpose, to treat him otherwise than as men treat
their servants and inferiors. When he had finished his coffee, he went
leisurely back into his former place.

"You have nothing to suggest," he said, "nothing to advise? Well, I must
try what I can do. It will be hard work, but still I must do it, you
know," added Mr. May, in a gracious tone. "I have never concealed from
you, Cotsdean, how much I appreciated your assistance; everything of
this sort is so much worse in my position than in yours. You understand
that? A gentleman--and a clergyman--has things expected from him which
never would be thought of in your case. I have never omitted to
acknowledge my obligations to you--and you also owe some obligations to
me."

"I don't deny as you've been very kind, sir," said Cotsdean,
half-grateful, half-sullen; then he wavered a little. "I never denied
it, _her_ and me could never have 'it it off but for you. I don't forget
a favour--nobody can say that of me. I ain't forgot it in this case."

"I don't say that you have forgotten it. I have always put the utmost
confidence in you; but, my good fellow, you must not come to me in this
down-in-the-mouth way. Have I ever failed you?