so truly from an overburdened
heart that Keith was conscious with a certain dismay of not having yet
fathomed the cause of this uncanny silence. He got up, and, back to the
fire, said with a brutality born of nerves rather than design:

"What is it, man? Have you committed a murder, that you stand there dumb
as a fish?"

For a second no answer at all, not even of breathing; then, just the
whisper:

"Yes."

The sense of unreality which so helps one at moments of disaster enabled
Keith to say vigorously:

"By Jove! You have been drinking!"

But it passed at once into deadly apprehension.

"What do you mean? Come here, where I can see you. What's the matter
with you, Larry?"

With a sudden lurch and dive, his brother left the shelter of the
shadow, and sank into a chair in the circle of light. And another long,
broken sigh escaped him.

"There's nothing the matter with me, Keith! It's true!"

Keith stepped quickly forward, and stared down into his brother's face;
and instantly he saw that it was true. No one could have simulated the
look in those eyes--of horrified wonder, as if they would never again
get on terms with the face to which they belonged. To see them squeezed
the heart-only real misery could look like that. Then that sudden pity
became angry bewilderment.

"What in God's name is this nonsense?"

But it was significant that he lowered his voice; went over to the
door, too, to see if it were shut. Laurence had drawn his chair forward,
huddling over the fire--a thin figure, a worn, high-cheekboned face with
deep-sunk blue eyes, and wavy hair all ruffled, a face that still had a
certain beauty. Putting a hand on that lean shoulder, Keith said:

"Come, Larry! Pull yourself together, and drop exaggeration."

"It's true; I tell you; I've killed a man."

The noisy violence of that outburst acted like a douche. What was the
fellow about--shouting out such words! But suddenly Laurence lifted his
hands and wrung them. The gesture was so utterly painful that it drew a
quiver from Keith's face.

"Why did you come here," he said, "and tell me this?"

Larry's face was really unearthly sometimes, such strange gleams passed
up on to it!

"Whom else should I tell? I came to know what I'm to do, Keith? Give
myself up, or what?"

At that sudden introduction of the practical Keith felt his heart
twitch. Was it then as real as all that? But he said, very quietly:

"Just tell me--How did it come about, thi