As the door closed he moved suddenly.

He sprang to follow Sir Oliver.

Conscience cried out to him that he could not do this thing.
But Fear was swift to answer that outcry.

Unless he permitted what was planned to take its course, his life might pay the penalty.
He turned, and lurched into the dining-room upon legs that trembled.
He found the table set for supper as on that other night when he had staggered in with a wound in his side to be cared for and sheltered by Sir Oliver.

He did not approach the table; he crossed to the fire, and sat down there holding out his hands to the blaze.