"He is no ordinary man," said Mr. Castlemaine. "He should have a great career." Purvis shook his head. "You do not think so?" "I do not deny his cleverness," said Purvis. "That is generally recognised; but--but----" "Oh, I take but little notice of his joking," said John Castlemaine, "for he was joking." "No, he was not joking." "You mean that----" "He believes in nothing--neither in God nor man. He does not believe in the commonplaces of Christian morality. He makes a boast of his atheism." Mr. Castlemaine looked serious. "That is a great pity for the poor fellow," he said. "But that's not the worst," said Purvis. "No?" "No; it's an awful pity, but he's a hard drinker." "Ah, I'm very sorry, for he struck me as a man with great possibilities." Mr. Castlemaine did not seem to enjoy Purvis's conversation, and he moved into the hall, to bid his guests good-night. During the ride to London Leicester was very silent. The car swept swiftly along the now almost empty roads, and presently stood outside the club where we first met the man whose story I am trying to tell. Directly they entered the smoking-room, Leicester ordered a large whisky, which he drank quickly. It seemed as though his abstinence at Mr. Castlemaine's had caused cravings which he was eager to appease. "Well," said Purvis presently, "you've taken the first step." "Yes, I've taken the first step." "I say, Leicester, give it up--it's not right." Leicester shrugged his shoulders. "Even if you succeeded it would be----" "You mean that I am not worthy of her?" "You know that yourself." Leicester laughed. "You see you rush to whisky the moment you get back." "Well, she knows all about it." "How?" "You told her--and you told her father too." Purvis's eyes dropped. "Oh, don't be downcast, my dear fellow," said Leicester mockingly. "I gave you liberty to tell them, and you took advantage of my permission. And you told her all the rest, too. Oh, I know you well enough for that, and on the whole I'm glad. But mind," and he rose to his feet like a man in anger, "if you let on about the rest----" "You mean the wager?" "Call it what you like--if you or Sprague let on about that, then, to quote your Bible, it were better that a millstone were hanged about your neck, and you were cast into the depths of the sea." Purvis shrank before the savage gleam of the man's eye. "You--you surely don't mean that--that you are going on with--with this business?" "Yes, I am," replied Leicester. His voice was quiet, but he spoke like a man in anger. "I am going on, and--and--if you do not play the game--well, you know me, Purvis." "Of course a promise is a promise," said Purvis; "all the same----" "Go to bed, my son," said Leicester mockingly. "I think you'll be all right now." If Purvis had remained he would have been almost frightened at the look which came into Leicester's eyes. CHAPTER V THE STRENGTHENING OF THE CHAIN