"Have I not?" he broke in, grimly, and with a significant glance at the revolver. "Oh, yes; I realize it clearly enough; it was because I did that I decided to--slip out of it. I am sorry that you prevented me. It was good of you; it was brave of you; you meant well. And you have succeeded. It is a case of the interposing angel; but you have placed me in a terrible fix. I don't know what I am going to do." His hands fell to his side with a gesture of helplessness and despair, and he turned his head away from the searching gaze of the clear eyes regarding him so intently. "Tell the truth," said Celia, in an urgent whisper. "Why should you screen the guilty? Why should you suffer in his place? Oh, I don't want to hear the story, it does not concern me. But if you told it to me, it would make no difference, it would not alter my opinion that you intend to do a very wicked things--and a very foolish one." "Foolish! That hits me rather hard," he commented, with a wry smile. "Well, it _is_ foolish," said Celia, emphatically. "Why, look how young you are!" "Why, how young do you think I am?" he interrupted, looking down at her with a grave smile. "As I said just now, you seem to regard me as if I were a boy. I think I am as old as you--older. How old are you--you look like a girl?" "I am twenty-two--but what has that to do with it? How can you turn aside, trifle----" "And I am twenty-five," he said, with an involuntary sigh. "So you see I am your senior. But they say a woman is always ten years older than a man of the same age. I suppose that is why you always have us under your thumbs. No, I'm not trifling. Don't you see that I am fighting for time, that I am trying not to _think_, that I am putting the thing from me as far as I can, even for a few minutes. Immediately you go, I shall have to face it all again, and--alone. You have been very good to me; you don't think I am ungrateful, because I--I play the fool?" "Don't play it any longer, then," said Celia, earnestly. "Make up your mind to do the right thing. Why should you ruin yourself? But I have said that before. You know I am right; you say you are grateful because I have stopped you from----" She shuddered, and her hand closed still more tightly on the revolver. "Promise me----" He looked at her wistfully; but he shook his head. "I can't do that," he said, in a low voice. "Here, I see I shall have to put the case to you." He sank into the chair and leant his head on his hand, and, still with his eyes covered, he continued, in little more than a whisper: "Supposing there was someone you cared for more than anything else in the world, more than life, more than honour. Is there someone?" Celia did not blush, and without a sign of embarrassment, shook her head.