onger, that you
have defeated me, won't that be enough?"

"Eh? I don't quite take you."

"You are the stronger." John's voice was very miserable. "I have tried
to dissuade him, as you knew I should try, and I have failed. Isn't that
enough? You have your triumph. But now be generous. Turn round and use
your strength the other way. Make him give up this folly. You don't want
to see your own pal--sacked?"

"Precious little chance of that!"

"There is the chance."

Scaife hesitated. Did some worthier impulse stir within him? Who can
tell? His keen eye softened, and then hardened again.

"No," he said quickly. "If I agree to what you propose, it is, after
all, you who triumph, not I. And I doubt if I could stop him now, even
if I tried." He laughed again, for the third time, savagely. "You are
hoist with your own petard, Verney. You wanted to see me sacked; and now
that there is a chance in a thousand that Caesar will be sacked, you
squirm. I swore to get my knife into you, and, by God, I've done it."

John went out, very pale. He passed through into the private side, and
tapped at Warde's study door. Mrs. Warde's voice bade him enter. She
looked at John's face. Afterwards she testified that he looked
singularly cool and self-possessed.

"I wish to see Mr. Warde," he said.

"He's dining at the Head Master's."

"Will he be in soon?"

"I--er--don't know. Perhaps not. I wouldn't wait for him, Verney, if I
were you."

"Thank you," said John. "Good night."

He went back to his room. In Mrs. Warde's eyes he had read--what?
Excitement? Apprehension? Suddenly, conviction came to him that this
dinner at the Head Master's was a blind. Why, during that very
afternoon, Warde had mentioned casually to Scaife that he was dining
out. He had deliberately informed the Demon that the coast was clear.
And at this moment, probably, Warde lay concealed near the chestnut
tree, waiting, watching, about to pounce upon the--wrong man!

The temptation to cry "_Cave!_" tore at his vitals. Till this moment the
tyranny of honour had never oppressed John. Having resolved to tell
Warde that he meant to break his word, it may seem inexplicable that he
shouldn't go a step further and break his word without warning the
house-master. Upon such nice points of conscience hang issues of
world-wide importance. To John, at any rate, the difference between the
two paths out of a tangled wood was greater than it might appear to some
of us. Warde