“It was not impossible. The impossibility comes in later on. You see, Miss Severn, the scheme appears feasible enough. One man has only a day or two to live, the other has the chance of redeeming the past and of becoming a person of influence and importance in the world. Yes, I think the scheme sounded well, especially as the real criminal solemnly swore to amend his life. Well, the confession is made in due form; and then,--here is where Fate sometimes becomes objectionable--then--the dying man ceases to die. Whether it was that the doctors were duffers, or that a more skilful man turned up I cannot say--but the man recovered and was arrested on his own confession. The other man being a kind-hearted fellow did his best to get his father to be merciful; but he was not kind-hearted enough to take the place in the dock where his friend stood a month later to receive the judge’s sentence for the crime which he had taken on his own shoulders.” “You mean to say that he was base enough to see his friend sentenced for the forgery which he had committed?” “That is what happened. And to show how Fate’s jests are never half-hearted, but played out to the very end in the finest spirit of comedy, it also happened that the man who was the real criminal not only saw that his friend fulfilled his part of the compact which they had made by suffering the penalty of his confession, but he himself was determined to act up to his part in the compact, for he so rigidly kept his promise to amend his life, that when his friend was released from gaol where he had been confined for more than a year, he refused to see him; the fellow had actually come to believe that he was innocent and that the other had been properly convicted!” “That is a touch of nature, I think. And what happened then? Surely Nemesis----” “Nemesis is one of the most useful properties of the man who weaves romances; but sometimes Nature dispenses with Nemesis. And do you know, Miss Severn, I really think that the introduction of Nemesis would spoil this particular story. At any rate I know nothing about the part that Nemesis played in this romance.” “What, you mean to say that you know no more of the story than what you have told me?” “Don’t you think that the story is complete in itself?” “Not at all; it must have a sequel.” “Oh, everybody knows--your master of the _technique_ of romance weaving will bear me out, I am sure--that the sequel to a romance is invariably tame and quite unworthy of the first part. That is why I would rather that Mr. Richmond--or your father tried his hand at the sequel than I--yes, I would like very much to know what your father thinks the sequel should be.” “But surely you know something more of the lives of the two men, Mr. Winwood.”