o
seated on a sofa in an attitude of singular dejection. Close beside him
stood an untasted grog, the mark of strong preoccupation. The room
besides was in confusion: boxes had been tumbled to and fro; the floor
was strewn with keys and other implements; and in the midst of this
disorder lay a lady's glove.

"I have come," cried Somerset, "to make an end of this. Either you will
instantly abandon all your schemes, or (cost what it may) I will
denounce you to the police."

"Ah!" replied Zero, slowly shaking his head. "You are too late, dear
fellow! I am already at the end of all my hopes and fallen to be a
laughing-stock and mockery. My reading," he added, with a gentle
despondency of manner, "has not been much among romances; yet I recall
from one a phrase that depicts my present state with critical
exactitude; and you behold me sitting here 'like a burst drum.'"

"What has befallen you?" cried Somerset.

"My last batch," retorted the plotter wearily, "like all the others, is
a hollow mockery and a fraud. In vain do I combine the elements; in vain
adjust the springs; and I have now arrived at such a pitch of
disconsideration that (except yourself, dear fellow) I do not know a
soul that I can face. My subordinates themselves have turned upon me.
What language have I heard to-day, what illiberality of sentiment, what
pungency of expression! She came once; I could have pardoned that, for
she was moved; but she returned, returned to announce to me this
crushing blow; and, Somerset, she was very inhumane. Yes, dear fellow, I
have drunk a bitter cup; the speech of females is remarkable for ...
well, well! Denounce me, if you will; you but denounce the dead. I am
extinct. It is strange how, at this supreme crisis of my life, I should
be haunted by quotations from works of an inexact and even fanciful
description; but here," he added, "is another: 'Othello's occupation's
gone.' Yes, dear Somerset, it is gone; I am no more a dynamiter; and
how, I ask you, after having tasted of these joys, am I to condescend to
a less glorious life?"

"I cannot describe how you relieve me," returned Somerset, sitting down
on one of several boxes that had been drawn out into the middle of the
floor. "I had conceived a sort of maudlin toleration for your character;
I have a great distaste, besides, for anything in the nature of a duty;
and upon both grounds, your news delights me. But I seem to perceive,"
he added, "a certain sound of tickin