to the pounds here and
there, and ingenious errors in carrying forward totals from the bottom
of one page to the top of the next. He began to speculate whether
Horrocleave would be content merely to fling him out of the office, or
whether he would prosecute. Prosecution seemed much more in accordance
with the Napoleonic temperament, and yet Louis could not, then,
conceive himself the victim of a prosecution.... Anybody else, but not
Louis Fores!

Horrocleave, his elbow on the table, leaned his head on his hand and
began to examine the book. Suddenly he looked up at Louis, who could
not move and could not cease from agreeably smiling.

Said Horrocleave in a still more peculiar tone--

"Just ask Axon whether he means to go fetch wages to-day or to-morrow.
Has he forgotten it's Saturday morning?"

Louis shot away into the outer office, where Axon was just putting on
his hat to go to the bank.

Alone in the outer office Louis wondered. The whole of his vitality
was absorbed in the single function of wondering. Then through the
thin slit of the half-open door between the top and the middle hinges,
he beheld Horrocleave bending in judgment over the book. And he
gazed at the vision in the fascination of horror. In a few moments
Horrocleave leaned back, and Louis saw that his face had turned paler.
It went almost white. Horrocleave was breathing strangely, his arms
dropped downward, his body slipped to one side, his cap fell off, his
eyes shut, his mouth opened, his head sank loosely over the back
of the chair like the head of a corpse. He had fainted. The
thought passed through Louis' mind that stupefaction at the complex
unrighteousness of the petty-cash records had caused Horrocleave to
lose consciousness. Then the true explanation occurred to him. It was
the pain in his ankle that had overcome the heroic sufferer. Louis
had desired to go to his aid, but he could not budge from his post.
Presently the colour began slowly to return to Horrocleave's cheek;
his eyes opened; he looked round sleepily and then wildly; and then he
rubbed his eyes and yawned. He remained quiescent for several minutes,
while a railway lorry thundered through the archway and the hoofs of
the great horse crunched on shawds in the yard. Then he called, in a
subdued voice--

"Louis! Where the devil are ye?"

Louis re-entered the room, and as he did so Horrocleave shut the
petty-cash book with an abrupt gesture.

"Here, take it!" said he, push