me time to reply.
"Leave my room, please."

"Do you hear? You leave the bloke's room," cried Billy. "Ef you don't
you'll get a topper."

Hawkesbury, whose colour had been rising during the last few moments,
and whose assurance had gradually been deserting him, now turned round
with a ceremonious smile to the last speaker as he rose to his feet and
said, "If _you_ desire it, I'll go. I can submit to be ordered off by a
shoeblack, but the son of a convict is--"

With clenched fist and crimson face Jack gave a sudden bound towards the
speaker. But as suddenly he checked himself and walked gently to my
bed, where I had started up ready to spring to my feet and back up my
friend in what seemed a certain quarrel.

"What a cad I am!" he murmured, as he bent over me, and motioned me
gently back to my pillow, "but the fellow nearly drives me mad."

I was too exhausted by my effort to say anything.

Jack remained by my side while the unwelcome visitor slowly walked to
the door. But if one of Hawkesbury's enemies was disposed of, another
remained. Billy, who had been a fuming and speechless witness of this
last scene, now boiled over completely, and was to be kept in check no
longer.

Wasting no words, he made a wild dash at the retreating intruder and
closed with him. He would have closed with a lion, I firmly believe, if
a lion had made himself obnoxious to Jack Smith.

Hawkesbury turned suddenly to receive the assault; an angry flush
overspread his face, his hands clenched, and next moment Billy reeled
back bleeding and almost senseless into the middle of the room, and the
visitor had gone.

This was the event which put a check on my recovery.

To lie helpless and see Jack Smith insulted before my face would have
been bad enough, but to hear him taunted with the very secret I had so
miserably and treacherously let out was more than I could endure.

I don't know what I did that evening, I was so weak and so excited. I
have vague recollections of breaking out into passionate self-reproaches
and wild entreaties for forgiveness; and of Jack Smith with pale and
troubled face bending over me trying to soothe me, imploring me to be
still, telling me twenty times there was nothing left to forgive. And
then in the middle of the scene the doctor arrived, with serious face
and hushed voice. He felt my pulse more carefully than ever, and took
my temperature not once only, but several times. There was a hurried
cons