suspense for the blow to fall.
"I'll wait till Rendel comes in."

"But he shall go up to you at once," Rachel urged. "Do come up now, dear
father."

At that moment, however, the question of whether they should wait or not
for Rendel's return was settled for them, for his latchkey was heard
turning in the front door. He came into the room with such an air as a
winged messenger of victory might wear, unconscious of his surroundings
and of the road he traverses as he speeds along. Rachel looked at him,
and forbore to utter either the inquiry that sprang to her lips or any
appeal for sympathy about her father's condition.

"I've got to finish some writing," Rendel said, bringing back his
thoughts with visible effort. And he went quickly to the writing-table,
opening it with the key of his watch-chain. Sir William dared not look.
He tried to remember what had happened when he so hurriedly put the
paper back; he wondered whether it had stuck in the slit, or if it had
gone properly through and fallen straight among the others. There was a
pause during which he sat up and gripped the arms of his chair,
listening as if for life. Nothing had happened apparently. Rendel had
drawn up his chair and was writing again busily. Sir William fell back
again and closed his eyes as a flood of relief swept over him, Rachel
sitting by him quietly, her hand laid gently on his. Rendel went on
writing, transcribing from some more rough pencil notes he had brought
in in his hand, then, having quickly rung the bell, he proceeded to do
the whole thing up in a packet and seal it securely.

"I want this taken to Lord Stamfordham at once," he said, as the servant
came into the room. "And, Thacker, I should like you to go with it
yourself, please. It's very important, and I want it to be given into
his own hand. If he isn't in, please wait."

"Yes, sir," said Thacker, taking the precious packet and departing, with
a secret thrill of wondering excitement.

Rendel pulled down the lid of the table, drawing a sort of long breath
as he did so, like one who has cleared the big fence immediately in
front of him, and is ready for the next. Sir William's breath was coming
and going quickly.

"I'm afraid you don't look very fit for chess, Sir William," he said
kindly, struck with his father-in-law's look of haggard anxiety and
illness.

"No," Sir William said feebly, "not to-day, I'm afraid."

"I'm sorry to see you like this," Rendel said. "Let me he