Crowther waited no longer, for he knew in that moment that he stood in the presence of a soul in torment. "You'll have to know it," he said, "though why these things happen, God alone knows. Sonny, she is the widow of the man whose death you caused." The words were spoken, and after them came silence--such a silence as could be felt. Once the hands that gripped Crowther's seemed about to slacken, and then in a moment they tightened again as the hands of a drowning man clinging to a spar. Crowther attempted nothing in the way of sympathy or consolation. He merely stood ready. But it was evident that he did not need to be told of the tragedy that had suddenly fallen upon Piers' life. His attitude said as much. Very, very slowly at last, as if not wholly sure of his balance, Piers let him go. He took out his cigar with a mechanical movement and looked at it; then abruptly returned it to his lips and drew it fiercely back to life. Then, through a cloud of smoke, he spoke. "Crowther, I made you a promise yesterday." "You did," said Crowther gravely. Piers threw him a quick look. "Oh, you needn't be afraid," he said. "I'm not going to cry off. It's not my way. But--I want you to make me a promise in return." "What is it, sonny?" There was just a hint of anxiety in Crowther's tone. Piers made a reckless, half-defiant movement of the head. "It is that you will never--whatever the circumstances--speak of this thing again to anyone--not even to me." "You think it necessary to ask that of me?" said Crowther. "No, I don't!" Impulsively Piers made answer. "I believe I'm a cur to ask it. But this thing has dogged me so persistently that I feel like an animal being run to earth. For my peace of mind, Crowther;--because I'm a coward if you like--give me your word on it!" He laid a hand not wholly steady upon Crowther's shoulder, and impelled him forward. His voice was low and agitated. "Forgive me, old chap!" he urged. "And understand, if you can. It's all you can do to help." "My dear lad, of course I do!" Instant and reassuring came Crowther's reply. "If you want my promise, you have it. The business is yours, not mine. I shall never interfere." "Thank you--thanks awfully!" Piers said. He drew a great breath. His hand went through Crowther's arm. "That gives me time to think," he said. "What an infernal tangle this beastly world is! I suppose you think there's a reason for everything?" "You've heard of gold being tried in the fire," said Crowther. Piers broke into his sudden laugh. "I'm not gold, my dear chap, but the tinniest dross that ever was made. Shall we go and have a drink, what? This sort of thing always makes me thirsty."