On the fourth day, however, an incident occurred which made the next week fly like a single hour, and brought me to long most ardently, not merely that the Countess might lengthen her visit, but that she would depart from England without so much as passing through London on her way. For as I waked that morning at a somewhat late hour, I perceived Marston sitting patiently on the edge of my bed. He was in riding-dress, with his boots and breeches much stained with mud, and he carried a switch in his hand. For a while I lay staring at him in silent surprise. He did not notice that I was awake, and sat absorbed in a moody reverie. At last I stirred, and he turned towards me. I noticed that his face was dirty and leaden, his eyes heavy and tired. "You sleep very well," said he. "Have you waited long?" "An hour. I was anxious to speak to you, so I came up to your room." "We can talk the matter over at breakfast," said I cheerfully, though, to tell the truth, I felt exceedingly uneasy at the strangeness of his manner. And I made a movement as though I would rise; but he budged not so much as an inch. "I don't fancy we shall breakfast together," said he, with a slow smile, and after a pause: "you sleep very well," he repeated, "considering that you have a crime upon your conscience." I started up in my bed. "Lie down!" he snarled, with a sudden fierceness, and with a queer sense of helplessness I obeyed him. "That's right," he continued, with a patronising smile. "Keep quiet and listen!" For the moment, however, there was nothing for me to listen to, since Marston sat silent, watching with evident enjoyment the concern which I betrayed. He had chosen the easiest way with me. The least hint of condescension in another's voice always made me conscious in the extreme of my own shortcomings, and I felt that I lay helpless in some new toils of his weaving. At last he spoke. "You killed Count Lukstein." I was prepared for the accusation by his previous words. "Well?" I asked, in as natural a tone as I could command. "Well," he returned, "I would not be too hard with you. What if you returned to Cumberland to-day, and stayed there? Your estates, I am sure, will thrive all the better for their master's supervision." "My estates," I replied, "have a steward to supervise them. Their master will return to them at no man's bidding." "It is a pity, a very great pity," said he thoughtfully, flicking his switch in the air. "For not only are you unwise in your own interests, but you drive me to a proceeding which I assure you is very repugnant and distasteful to my nature. Really, Mr. Buckler, you should have more consideration for others." The smooth irony of his voice began to make my anger rise. "And what is this proceeding?" I inquired. "It would be my duty," he began, and I interrupted him. "I can quite understand, then, that it is repugnant to your nature." He smiled indulgently.