h Baumgartner, and ending in a
blaze of wretched notoriety, was a severe one to face; meanwhile he lay in
such peace and safety as it was only human to prolong a little. That
night, for all his moral innocence, he might lie in prison; let him make
the most of a good bed while he had one, especially as he was still
mysteriously free from asthma. The last consideration took his mind off
the ethical dilemma for quite a little time. He remembered the doctor at
home telling him that he himself had suffered from chronic asthma, but had
lost it after a carriage accident in which he was nearly killed.

"My accident may have done the same for me," thought Pocket--and was
bitterly ashamed next moment to catch himself thinking complacently of any
aspect of his deed. Its other aspects were a sufficient punishment.

To get up, and raise the green linen blind, flooding with sunshine the
plain upstairs room to which Baumgartner had conducted his guest, was to
conjure uncomfortable visions of the eccentric doctor, with his ferocious
meerschaum, his bloodthirsty battle-talk, and all his arguments in favour
of the course which Pocket had now determined to abandon. The boy fully
realised that he had been given his chance, and had refused it. And of
all the interviews before him, that with Dr. Baumgartner was the one that
he most dreaded, and would have given most to escape.

Could he escape it? That was an idea; others came of it. If he did
escape, and did give himself up for what he had done, there was no reason
why he should involve Baumgartner in that voluntary confession. Suppose
he hailed the first cab he saw, and drove over to St. John's Wood to
borrow money (they could scarcely refuse him that), and then took the
first train home to tell his father everything in the first instance, that
father would never hear of his incriminating a stranger who had befriended
him according to his lights. He himself need never say where he had spent
the twenty-four hours after the tragedy, even if he were ever to know.
And so far he had no notion, thanks to the ridiculous posture prescribed
by Baumgartner in the cab; he could only suppose the motive had been to
keep him out of sight, the benefit to his breathing a mere pretext; and
yet it was a curious result that after a day and a night he should still
be in total ignorance of his whereabouts.

He opened his window and looked out; but it was a back window, and the
sunny little strip of