His unspoken soliloquy was brought to an end by the return of Rodd. "Have you found the vial?" he asked, with restrained eagerness. "I have." He came slowly forward. "Felix, once more----" "Give it me. Not another word!" Drelincourt held out his hand, and Rodd had no choice save to do as he was told. Drelincourt's features were lighted up by a faint smile. "Why this childish puling?" he asked. "Why this sudden faint heartedness? You know well how it was agreed between us years ago that this should be my way of escape when none other was left me." Rodd resumed his seat without replying, and letting his elbows rest on the table, covered his face with his hands. Drelincourt held the vial up to the light. "Even in the tiny compass of this the Great Destroyer finds room to lurk. 'Swift and painless,' were the words of the Italian _savant_ when he put it into my hands. Swift--and--painless. It is well. Now I am prepared." Rodd turned on him a face charged with tragic intensity. "You will not do this thing just yet--if it must be done at all?" he pleaded. "Not today certainly--nor yet tomorrow. I have much to see to first. Besides, this is my daughter's _festa_, and no faintest shadow of a cloud shall mar its brightness. In years to come, when she is a happy wife, and when the trouble which is now closing round her shall be nothing but a memory, I would fain have her be able to look back on this day as one of unclouded happiness." "And Mrs. Drelincourt?" "Ah! Now you stab me. Now you all but unman me. Why did you mention her name?" He got up abruptly, his hands clinched, his features working. Scarcely ever before had Rodd seen him so moved. "Leave me now," he went on, after a brief pause. "I must be alone for a little while. I will see you again later. But not a word to my wife about the verdict. Should she question you, tell her that the trial will not be finished till tomorrow. How strangely you look at me! Go, and fear nothing." Sadly and lingeringly Rodd left the room. "There is one door of escape for him, and it rests with me to open it," he said to himself as he went. "He saved my life when we were boys; why should I not make an effort to save his now? Felix--Felix--dearer to me than any brother could have been--had I a dozen lives I would willingly sacrifice them all to save yours!" Left alone, Drelincourt crossed to one of the windows which fronted the west, and flung wide the casement. "Yes, to leave her--my Madeline--will in very truth be to drain death's bitter cup to the lees. If she and I could but walk hand in hand into yonder sunset, and so vanish forever from mortal ken--that would indeed be well!" CHAPTER XI. ONE STEP NEARER.