Some philosophers maintain that we are all gone mad on certain points. In that case, if one does not know it or suspect it, and if our friends neither know nor suspect it, what does it matter? There are also, we all know, points on which some of us are mad, and everybody knows it. There is the man who believes that he is a great poet, and publishes volume after volume, all at his own expense, to prove it: there is the man--but he ought to be taken away and put on a treadmill--who writes letters to the papers on every conceivable subject with the day before yesterday's wisdom: there is the man who thinks he can paint--we all know plenty of men mad like unto these, and we are for the most part willing to tolerate them. Considerations, however, on the universality of the complaint fail to bring consolation to any except those who have it not. In the same way, nobody who dies of any disease is comforted with the thought of the rarity or the frequency of that disease; its interesting character has no charm for him. Nor is the man on his way to be hanged consoled by the reminder that thousands have trodden that flowery way before him. To Mr. Dering, proud of his own intellect, self-sufficient and strong, the discovery of these things would certainly bring humiliation intolerable, perhaps--even--shame unto Death itself. How--oh! how could things be managed so as to spare him this pain? Elsie's difficulties grew greater the more she pondered over them. It was past midnight when she closed the volume of thought and her eyes at the same moment. In the morning, Athelstan kissed her gravely. 'Do you remember what you said last night, Elsie? You said that we could rest at peace because the thing was done.' 'Well, Athelstan, the words could only have one meaning, could they? I mean, if you want me to be more explicit, that the thing is actually done. My dear brother, I know all about it now. I know who signed that first cheque--who sent the commissionaire to the Bank--who received the notes--who placed them in the safe--who wrote about the transfers--who received the letters and carried on the whole business. I can place my hand upon him to-day if necessary.' 'Without doubt? With proofs, ample proofs?' 'Without the least doubt--with a cloud of witnesses. My dear brother, do not doubt me. I have done it. Yet--for a reason--to spare one most deeply concerned--for the pity of it--if you knew--give me a few days--a week, perhaps, to find a way if I can. If I cannot, then the cruel truth must be told bluntly, whatever happens.' 'Remember all the mischief the old villain has done.' 'The old villain? Oh! you mean Checkley?' 'Of course; whom should I mean?'