le that an officer and a
gentleman should inveigle a brother-officer into a solemn promise to do
anything dishonourable. "Of course. Anything you like."

"One is to look after the old mother--"

"That goes without promising," said I.

"The other is to--what shall I say?--to rehabilitate my memory in the
eyes of Betty Connor. She may hear all kinds of things about me--some
true, others false--I have my enemies. She has heard things already. I
didn't know it till our last meeting here. There's no one else on God's
earth can do what I want but you. Do you think I'm putting you into an
impossible position?"

"I don't think so," said I. "Go on."

"Well--there's not much more to be said. Try to make her realise that,
whatever may be my faults--my crimes, if it comes to that--I've done my
damndest out there to make reparation. By God! I have," he cried, in a
sudden flash of passion. "See that she realises it. And--" he thumped
the hidden identification disc, "tell her that she is the only woman
that has ever really mattered in the whole of my blasted life."

He threw his half-smoked cigarette into the fire-place and walked over
to the sideboard, where stood decanters and syphon.

"May I help myself to a drink?"

"Certainly," said I.

He gulped down half a whisky and soda and turned on me.

"You promise?"

"Of course," said I.

"She may have reasons to think the worst of me. But whatever I am there
is some good in me. I'm not altogether a worthless hound. If you
promise to make her think the best of me, I'll go away happy. I don't
care a damn whether I die or live. That's the truth. As long as I'm
alive I can take care of myself. I'm not dreaming of asking you to say
a word to win her favour. That would be outrageous impudence. You
clearly understand. I don't want you ever to mention my name unless I'm
dead. If I feel that I've an advocate in you--advocatus diaboli, if you
like--I'll go away happy. You've got your brief. You know my life at
home. You know my record."

"My dear fellow," said I, "I promise to do everything in my power to
carry out your wishes. But as to your record--are you quite certain
that I know it?"

You must realise that there was a curious tension in the situation, at
any rate as far as it affected myself. Here was a man with whom, for
reasons you know, I had studiously cultivated the most formal social
relations, claiming my active participation in the secret motives of
his heart. Since