have been induced to imagine--that a jest was being
played off upon him, and had determined to return it in kind, managing
somehow to get himself up for the role. Had they not been talking
about the monk and his gesture of warning? Yes; Meredith, of
course!--beginning to recover his nerve. He had been caught, and
Meredith had not been caught; that was all, and he had only to treat the
whole thing as a jest.

But all this notwithstanding, there was an under-current of something
very like fear in his mind which caused him to watch the slowly
broadening light of day with feverish impatience for the time when he
could enter Meredith's room. It would not do to go too early, lest his
very anxiety should arouse the other's suspicions. Everything now
depended upon his being able to treat the whole thing as a jest. He
threw off his disguise, washed and dressed, and then sat listening for
the usual sounds of Sally's movements about the house.

When the clock struck six he could contain himself no longer, and made
his way to Meredith's room, going to the door which opened into the
corridor. Meredith, in response to his knock, unlocked the door and
admitted him.

"Up already, Meredith?"

"Yes, I am accustomed to rise early."

As he advanced into the room, Laurence darted a quick look towards the
dressing-table. There lay the pocket-book! He had been right; it had
appeared as a jest to Meredith, and he had played one off in return.
"Had I only guessed and kept my wits about me, instead of making a fool
of myself, by going off in a fainting fit, the jest might have been
better kept up."

"I see you can make, as well as take, a jest, old fellow," he began,
with an attempt at a laugh.

"I was too sleepy and lazy to do more than take it, Verschoyle. I saw
what was done both times; but the restoration was managed best."

"Restoration?"

"The putting the book back."

Laurence Verschoyle dropped into a chair, gazing at the other with
widely opened eyes. "Do you mean to say you did not? For Heaven's sake,
tell me the truth, Meredith! You followed me to my room and brought the
book back. I--I--saw you!"

"That you did not, and could not have done, Verschoyle. I did not rise
from the bed after I lay down until six o'clock this morning, just
before you came in."

"You must--either awake or asleep, you must have!" catching at a last
hope that the other might have walked in his sleep.

"No; on my honour; I was tired, but I coul