In spite of himself, Colonel Tempest occasionally almost liked John, even while he kicked against the pricks of a certain respect which he could not entirely smother for this grave quiet man of few words. When he was not for the moment jealous of him--and there were such moments--he could afford to indulge a sentiment almost of regret for him. At times he still hated him with the perfect hatred of the injurer for the injured; but nothing to stir that latent superstitious horror, and consequent detestation of the cause of the horror, had occurred of late years. They had walked slowly down Bond Street and St. James's Street, and had reached the Carlton. Close by the steps a man was lounging. Colonel Tempest saw him look attentively at John as they came up, and the blood left his heart. It was Swayne. In a moment the horror was awake again--wide awake, hydra-headed, close at hand, insupportable. Swayne stared for a moment full at Colonel Tempest, and then turned away and sauntered slowly along Pall Mall. "Won't you come in?" said John, as his companion hesitated. "Not to-day. Another time," said Colonel Tempest, and incoherently making he knew not what excuse, he left John to join another man who was entering at that moment, and hurried after Swayne. He overtook him as he passed through the gates into St. James's Park. It was a dull, foggy afternoon, and there were not many people about. Swayne nodded carelessly to him as he joined him. He evidently did not mind being overtaken. "Well, Colonel," he said, in the half insolent manner that in men like Swayne implies a knowledge that they have got the whip hand. Swayne was not to be outshone in the art of grovelling by any of his own species of fellow-worm, but he did not grovel unnecessarily. His higher nature was that of a bully. "---- you, Swayne, where have you been all these years?" said Colonel Tempest, hurriedly. "I've tried to find you over and over again." "I've been busy, Colonel," returned Mr. Swayne, swaying himself on tight light-checked legs, and pushing back his grey high hat. "Business before pleasure. That's my motto. And I've been mortal sick, too. Thought I should have gone up this time last year. I did indeed. You look the worse for wear too; but I must not be standing talking here, pleasant as it is to meet old friends." "Look here, Swayne," said Colonel Tempest, in great agitation, laying a spasmodic clutch on Swayne's arm, "I can't stand it any longer. I can't indeed. It's wearing me into my grave. I want you--to cancel the bet. You must cancel it. I won't bear it. If you won't cancel it, I won't pay up when the--if the time comes." "Won't you?" said Swayne, with contempt. "I know better." "I must get out of it. It's killing me," repeated Colonel Tempest, ignoring Swayne's last remark. "Pay up, then," said Swayne. "If you won't bear it, pay up." Colonel Tempest was staggered.