Would he hear the report as sound travels before his senses were all stilled? He heard something, a jar and tinkle, which made him start at the very moment he felt that cold mouth of death. The touch of the pistol and then a jerk of his arm and a clanging world of sound, and then--no more. It disturbed his arm and the steadiness of his touch; and the report followed harmlessly, the bullet going somewhere, he knew not where, leaving him sitting there with the jar of the concussion in the finger which had pulled that trigger. The sound seemed to wake him up like a clap of thunder. He sprang to his feet, flinging the little weapon away with a burning sense of despising himself, of scorn for his intention, scorn for his failure. Was he a coward too, doubly a coward, ready to run away, yet weak enough to be stopped in the act? A sudden heat of shame came over him; he burst into a laugh of scorn, self-ridicule, derision--God in heaven! had he been frightened at the last moment? by what, by his nerves, by a fancied sound, like a child? What? what? a fancied sound? No; but the commonest, most vulgar noise in the world: the bell at his door, pealing, tingling, jarring, with a repeated and violent summons into the silence of the night. CHAPTER VII. They had all been disturbed by it beyond expression; by his absence, by his silence, his sudden, strange departure which, natural enough at the minute, appeared now, in the light of subsequent events, so extraordinary, which now looked like a flight, but--from what? From happiness, from well-being, from everything that the heart of man could desire. Mr. Ford was a person of a very sturdy mind, not given to fancies like his wife, but after a fortnight had passed he was almost more anxious than she was. He questioned her closely as to Oliver’s past life. Had she ever heard of any entanglement? ‘There must be some one who has a claim upon him, who would expose him to Grace, if not worse,’ he said; at which Trix was naturally indignant. ‘You men have such bad imaginations,’ she cried. ‘How should he have any entanglements? He has been fond of Grace since--since--’ ‘Since he saw her here six months ago, Trix.’ Trix grew very red, and the tears came into her eyes. ‘You mean, Tom, that Oliver, that--that my brother got fond of Grace only when--’ ‘I don’t mean anything of the sort,’ said Tom Ford, ‘it is women who have bad imaginations, though, perhaps, in a different way. I mean that he had forgotten all about her. But when he saw her again, and saw how nice she was--for she is a very nice woman, poor thing! far too nice to be made a wreck of for the sake of some baggage--’ ‘Tom! you have taken leave of your senses, I think.’ ‘My dear, you know well enough, just as well as I do, that Oliver hasn’t been immaculate. But why the deuce didn’t he have the courage to tell the truth? Why didn’t he speak to you, or me, if it comes to that? If he had made a clean breast of it--’