," said Garvington, rapidly making up his mind to adopt a certain
course about which he wished his wife to know nothing. "I'll lie down,
Jane."

"And don't take any more wine," warned Jane, as she drifted out of the
dining-room. "You are quite red as it is, dear."

But Freddy did not take this advice, but drank glass after glass until
he became pot-valiant. He needed courage, as he intended to go all by
himself to the lonely Abbot's Wood Cottage and interview Silver. It
occurred to Freddy that if he could induce the secretary to give up Miss
Greeby to justice, Mother Cockleshell, out of gratitude, might surrender
to him the sum of one million pounds. Of course, the old hag might have
been talking all round the shop, and her offer might be bluff, but it
was worth taking into consideration. Garvington, thinking that there was
no time to lose, since his cousin might be beforehand in denouncing the
guilty woman, hurried on his fur overcoat, and after leaving a lying
statement with the butler that he had gone to bed, he went out by the
useful blue door. In a few minutes he was trotting along the well-known
path making up his mind what to say to Silver. The interview did not
promise to be an easy one.

"I wish I could do without him," thought the treacherous little
scoundrel as he left his own property and struck across the waste ground
beyond the park wall. "But I can't, dash it all, since he's the only
person who saw the crime actually committed. 'Course he'll get jailed as
an accessory-after-the-fact: but when he comes out I'll give him a
thousand or so if the old woman parts. At all events, I'll see what
Silver is prepared to do, and then I'll call on old Cockleshell and make
things right with her. Hang it," Freddy had a qualmish feeling. "The
exposure won't be pleasant for me over that unlucky letter, but if I can
snaffle a million, it's worth it. Curse the honor of the family, I've
got to look after myself somehow. Ho! ho!" he chuckled as he remembered
his cousin. "What a sell for Noel when he finds that I've taken the wind
out of his sails. Serve him jolly well right."

In this way Garvington kept up his spirits during the walk, and felt
entirely cheerful and virtuous by the time he reached the cottage. In
the thin, cold moonlight, the wintry wood looked spectral and wan. The
sight of the frowning monoliths, the gaunt, frozen trees and the
snow-powdered earth, made the luxurious little man shiver. Also the
anticipa