“Without wishing in the least to try to extenuate my criminal folly in your eyes, which I am quite aware would be a useless effort, I may yet be allowed to remark that when I entered upon the transaction which has landed me in my present quagmire, I had every possible assurance a man can have in a matter into which the element of chance at all enters, that, instead of being a loser to the extent of six hundred pounds, I should be in pocket to the amount of three thousand. It was one of those things, which, at the time, seemed to me almost as sure as death. The commonest justice to myself compels me to say as much as that.” He had spoken slowly and quietly, giving its due emphasis to every word, but he might have been addressing himself to a graven image for any notice his father condescended to accord his words. He now went back to his seat. Sir Gilbert had removed his chair, so that an oblong mahogany table now divided him and his son. Resting his arms on this and leaning forward a little, Alec said: “And now, sir, will you be good enough to specify the terms which you propose to exact from me? “My terms are these,” replied Sir Gilbert, in the same tone that he might have used had he been laying down the conditions of a lease with his land-steward: “You will at once leave England, not to return to it without my express sanction. Further, should you choose to reside on the Continent, it must be in some place out of the ordinary lines of travel, where there will be little likelihood of your being seen or recognised by anyone who has known you in England. In return, I will relieve you of your liabilities of every kind whatsoever, and will, in addition, make you an allowance of two hundred and fifty pounds per annum, which shall be remitted to you quarterly through my solicitor, Mr. Page.” By the time Sir Gilbert had finished speaking, Alec’s face had paled perceptibly. He lay back in his chair, and for a few seconds his eyes, wide open though they were, saw nothing of all that was around him. His heart beat painfully; he was as a man afflicted with vertigo. That his father’s conditions would be hard, he—knowing the man—had not doubted, but the reality dumfounded him. Sir Gilbert was toying with his watch-guard, his eyes apparently fixed on a corner of the ceiling. “Well, sir, have you nothing to say in answer to my proposition?” at length he asked, bringing his gaze back to his son’s face. “Do you agree to my terms, or do you reject them?” “I have no option but to agree to them. Beggars cannot be choosers.” The bitterness at his heart made itself apparent in his words. “Your last statement embodies a great truth, and one which you would do well to bear in mind for the rest of your life,” said the baronet, with the nearest approach to a sneer he ever permitted himself. “It may, perhaps, be as well that I should recapitulate the terms of my proposition in order that there may be no after-mistake in the matter.”