"Yes," said the surgeon, laconically. "Would your lordship have done otherwise, even though it had been a question of hanging?" "_I!_ I wouldn't give a man a month at the treadmill if I could help it. One gets into offences so easily," he dreamily added. They crossed over the waste land, and Mr. Hillary opened the door of the shed with a pass-key. A lock had been put on when Pike was lying in rheumatic fever, lest intruders might enter unawares, and see him without his disguise. "Pike, I have brought you my lord. He won't betray you." CHAPTER XXXV. THE SHED RAZED. Closing the door upon them, the surgeon went off on other business, and Lord Hartledon entered and bent over the bed; a more comfortable bed than it once had been. It was the Willy Gum of other days; the boy he had played with when they were boys together. White, wan, wasted, with the dying hectic on his cheek, the glitter already in his eye, he lay there; and Val's eyelashes shone as he took the worn hand. "I am so sorry, Willy. I had no suspicion it was you. Why did you not confide in me?" The invalid shook his head. "There might have been danger in it." "Never from me," was the emphatic answer. "Ah, my lord, you don't know. I haven't dared to make myself known to a soul. Mr. Hillary found it out, and I couldn't help myself." Lord Hartledon glanced round at the strange place: the rafters, the rude walls. A fire was burning on the hearth, and the appliances brought to bear were more comfortable than might have been imagined; but still-- "Surely you will allow yourself to be removed to a better place, Willy?" he said. "Call me Pike," came the feverish interruption. "Never that other name again, my lord; I've done with it for ever. As to a better place--I shall have that soon enough." "You wanted to say something to me, Mr. Hillary said." "I've wanted to say it some time now, and to beg your lordship's pardon. It's about the late earl's death." "My brother's?" "Yes. I was on the wrong scent a long time. And I can tell you what nobody else will." Lord Hartledon lifted his head quickly; thoughts were crowding impulsively into his mind, and he spoke in the moment's haste. "Surely you had not anything to do with that!" "No; but I thought your lordship had." "What do you mean?" asked Lord Hartledon, quietly. "It's for my foolish and wicked and mistaken thought that I would crave pardon before I go. I thought your lordship had killed the late lord, either by accident or maliciously." "You must be dreaming, Pike!" "No; but I was no better than dreaming then. I had been living amidst lawless scenes, over the seas and on the seas, where a life's not of much account, and the fancy was easy enough. I happened to overhear a quarrel between you and the earl just before his death; I saw you going towards the spot at the time the accident happened, as you may remember--"