In due time he arrived at the rectory, and was shown into the rector's study, where he found the man himself. The Revd. Pentland looked nervous at this untimely visit, and more so as he saw that Dr. Jim was not in evening dress and must therefore have come straight from town. Corn's conscience was uneasy, and every untoward event fluttered his nerves. However he composed himself with a strong effort, and asked Herrick to be seated. "You have just come from town I see," he observed with a nervous glance. "Yes! And I want particularly to have a chat with you before going to 'The Pines,' and on a painful subject, Mr. Corn." The rector shivered, and turned even paler than usual. "Is there anything wrong?" he asked faintly. "Let me know the worst at once." "Why should you expect any worst Mr. Corn?" The man shook his head and passed a handkerchief across his dry lips. "I want to know the worst," he said again, without heeding the question. "I can see by your face that there is something wrong which concerns me." Herrick gave a short laugh. "Upon my word you are a singularly indiscreet man Mr. Corn," he said, "you give yourself away right and left. When I met you first of all, you behaved in a foolish manner. Now you are very little better. You are a clergyman and a gentleman with an assured position. Why don't you assume the defensive and ask what I mean by such speeches as I have made--as I am now making!" "Because I would have to tell you all about myself sooner or later," said Corn in a low voice. "You are a strong man, and I want to confide in someone like yourself. I am not strong. I was--once--but something happened," he sighed and nodded, "a terrible thing happened." Herrick wondered if he was about to confess to the murder. However he did not wish to hurry the confession, which he saw Corn was on the point of making. He wondered that such a smart and soldierly-looking man should own himself to be so weak. "I am quite at your service," he said coldly, "and for my own part Mr. Corn I do not think you have used either myself or Mr. Marsh over well." "In what way?" This time Corn really did look amazed. "You told a lie to shield Don Manuel. It was the Mexican who struck that blow at my friend, and you knew it. How could you a gentleman, and a clergyman stoop to shield a would-be murderer." Corn rose to his feet and braced himself to a great effort. "You are right," he said frankly, "but I was compelled to such a course." Herrick nodded. "I know. I have heard all from Santiago." Corn recoiled. "He told you," he grasped sitting down. "Yes. He told me how he had you in his power; how he forced you to lie for him. I made him tell me the truth; now I wished to hear the confirmation of this story from you." "It is true; it is true!" cried Corn desperately. "If he told you that I was a gambler, that I owed money--it is true----"