"Good day, Ormsby," said the other abruptly. "I know you mean well, and I thank you. But I'm all on edge just now and I can't talk any more." "I can sympathize with you, my dear fellow. I have something of the same feeling myself." With that he held out his hand. "Ah, excuse me, but I sprained my wrist this morning." He crossed to the fireplace and rang the bell, and then stood grasping his right wrist with his left hand. "That's unfortunate. Well, _au revoir_," said Ormsby, as he took possession of his hat and gloves. The attentive Simmons stood holding the open door. "I'm nearly sure he shook hands with Sir John," muttered Ormsby, as he made his exit. "What a queer, ill-conditioned beggar he is! Still, I wish he would have had Octavia here. She would have been just in her element on an occasion like this. And then, she is so truly sympathetic." No sooner did Drelincourt find himself alone than he strode to one of the windows and flung open the casement. "At last I can breathe! For a little while the torture is relaxed, but only for a little while. What would I not give if the next few days were well over! This fellow Gumley must be saved at all risks. Of course, it was he who stole the jewels; and yet for the sake of a wretch like this I shall have to lie and perjure myself again and again. To me such a necessity is more hateful than I can express. The mere thought of such comradeship in crime sends a shudder down my spine. For all that, he _must_ be saved! All may go well if only the rest of the jewels remain undiscovered. In that case, my lie about the locket ought to be enough to clear him. Faugh! Let me try to get this greasy smelling knave out of my thoughts for a while." There was a box of cigars on the top of one of the low bookcases, from which he now proceeded to select one and light it. "'Murder will out'--so quotes Sir John. But does that follow as a matter of course? Facts--indisputable facts--prove the contrary. Though Nemesis may dog the footsteps of a man for years, yet oftener than we wot of she fails to overtake him. In any case, the man who, after having incurred a penalty--whether with wide open eyes or as the result of circumstances outside his control--shrinks from facing the consequences when they are brought home to him, is both a fool and a coward. That is not the stuff, I trust, of which Felix Drelincourt is made." CHAPTER IV. A BACKWARD GLANCE.