I don't
want anyone fooling in here." He returned in the evening, at seven
o'clock, and found me as he had left me, reading a later novel of Paul
Bourget's; for Osbart had slept all the afternoon, and was always
complaining when on shore.

The view from the window upon a balcony of lead and the back windows of
near houses was not inviting, and my bond had held me back from all
idle thoughts of eluding him. Life in London under such conditions was
little preferable to life on the ship, and I had no heart to hear
Black's stories of things doing in town; or to examine the many
purchases of miniatures and quaint old jewels, which he had laid on the
dinner-table.

The day following was Thursday. I shall always remember it, for I
regard it as one of the most memorable days in my life. Black went out
as usual early in the morning; his object being, as on the preceding
day, to find out, if he could, what the Admiralty were doing in view of
the robbery of the _Bellonic_; and Osbart, refusing to get up to
breakfast, lay in bed reading the morning papers. We had been left thus
about the space of an hour when there came a telegram for the doctor,
who read it with a fierce exclamation.

"The Captain wants me urgently," said he, "and there's nothing to do
but to leave you here. We are trusting absolutely to you, now; but be
quite sure, if you make half a move to betray us, it will be the last
you will ever make. I may return here in ten minutes. You must put up
with the indignity of being locked in; and, dear boy, don't trouble
yourself to look for sympathy in this place, for the man who owns this
house is one of us, and, if you call out, you'll get a rap on the head
pretty quickly."

He went out jauntily, and I watched him, little thinking that I should
never see him again. When he was gone I sat in the great armchair,
pulling it to the window, and taking up my book. The sensation of being
alone in the centre of London, and unable by my oath to make the
slightest attempt to help myself, was most curious; yet with it all I
could not but think that I had touched the culminating point, and was
near to the ending of it for good or for ill. From the window of my
room I could hear the hum of town, the rumbling of 'buses, and the
subdued roar of London awake. I could even see people in the houses at
the other side of the leads, and it occurred to me, What if I open that
casement and call for help? I had given a pledge, it is true; bu