sly, without any foreknowledge of the crime?'

"I said that any such oath taken without foreknowledge of the crime
could not have contemplated such an event, and that however wrong the
taking of such an oath might have been in itself, to assist in
concealing such a crime as this murder was infinitely worse--infinitely
worse than taking the oath, and infinitely worse than breaking it.
Though as to the latter, I repeated that any such engagement made
without contemplation or foreknowledge of such a crime would seem to be
void in that respect. I went further--much further. I conjured him to
make no secret of anything he might know, and not to burden his
conscience with complicity--for that was what concealment would amount
to--in such a terrible crime. I added some further exhortations which
I need not repeat now, and presently his assumed calmness departed
utterly, and he became even more agitated than when first he came. He
would say nothing further, however, and in the end he went away, saying
he would 'think over the matter very seriously.'

"It was quite plain to me that my poor friend was suffering acutely from
the burden of some terrible secret, and that in his impulsive way he had
rushed to confide in me at the first shock of the news of this murder,
and that afterwards his courage had failed him. But I conceived it my
duty not to allow such a matter to stand thus. Therefore, giving Mason a
few hours for calm consideration, I called on him in the evening. I was
told that he was not very well and had gone to bed; he had, however,
left a message, in case I should call, to the effect that he would come
and see me in the morning. I waited the whole of that next morning and
the whole of the afternoon, and saw nothing of him. In the evening
urgent parish work took me away, but next morning I called again at
Mason's house and saw him. This time he avoided the subject--tried to
dodge it, in fact. But I was not to be denied, and the result was
another scene of alternate agitation and forced calmness. I will not
weary you, Mr. Hewitt, with useless repetition, but I may say that I
have seen Mason twice since then without bringing him to any definite
resolve. As a matter of fact, I believe that he is restrained from
saying anything further by fear--sheer terror. He has even gone so far
as to deny absolutely that he knows anything of the matter--and then has
contradicted himself a minute afterwards. At last, this morning, I hav