Anthony shivered. The voice of Sergius was so strangely calm and level. "I--I--" he stammered. "Serge, why do you look at me like that?" Sergius looked away without a word. "For I, too, hated Vernon, more for what he had done to you even than for what he had done to Olga. But, Sergius, after you had gone, in the night, and in the dawn too, I kept on thinking of it over and over. I couldn't get away from it--that you were going to commit such an awful crime. I never slept. When at last it was morning, I went down to my district; there are criminals there, you know." "I know." "I looked at them with new eyes, and in their eyes I saw you, always you; and then I said to myself could I bear that you should become a criminal?" "You said that?" The fingers of Sergius closed over the china figure, and did not unclose. "Yes. I almost resolved then to go to Vernon at once and to tell him what I suspected--what I really knew." The clock struck eleven. Anthony heard it; Sergius did not hear it. "Then I went to sit with that wretched woman. Already I had resolved, as I believed, on the course to take. I had no thought for Vernon yet, only for you. It seemed to me that I did not care in the least to save him from death. I only cared to save you--my friend--from murder. But when the woman died I felt differently. My resolve was strengthened, my desire was just doubled. I had to save not only you, but also him. He was not ready to die." Anthony trembled with a passion of emotion. Sergius remained always perfectly calm, the china figure prisoned in his hand. "So--so I went to him, Sergius." "Yes." "I saw him. Almost as I entered he received your letter, saying that you forgave him, that you would call to-night after eight o'clock to tell him so, and to urge on his marriage with Olga. When he had read the letter--I interpreted it to him; and then I found out that he was a coward. His terror was abject--despicable; he implored my help; he started at every sound." "To-night he'll sleep quietly, Anthony." "To-night he has gone. Before morning he will be on the sea." The sound of the wind came to them again, and Sergius understood why Anthony had said: "Rough at sea to-night." Suddenly Sergius moved; he unclosed his fingers: the ruins of the china figure fell from them in a dust of blue and white upon the mantelpiece. "No--it's too late, Sergius. He went at eleven." Sergius stood quite still. "You came here to-night to keep me here till he had gone?" "Yes." "That's why you--" He stopped. "That's why I came. That's why I broke my pledge. I thought wine--any weapon to keep you from this crime. And, Sergius, think. Vernon dead could never have restored Olga to the place she has lost. That, too, must have driven me to the right course, though I scarcely thought of it till now." Sergius said, as if in reply: "So you have understood me!"