It was half-past four before Malachi brought in the yellow envelope.

Malcolm frowned as he read it.
"Know all--have forgiven all--engagement holds good--sorry cannot take advice .-- TEMPLETON." "Unhappy boy," he groaned, "the fowler has him in his net again." Then he scrunched the thin paper in his hand, and set his teeth hard like a man who sees the dentist coming towards him with the forceps.
"I must go down to them; there is nothing else for me to do.

I dare not take the responsibility of keeping this to myself an hour longer.

It is all in the day's work, as the lion-tamer said when the lion prepared to bite off his head." And after this grim jest Malcolm summoned Malachi and confided the Gladstone bag to his care, and they sallied forth together.

At Waterloo he sent off a telegram to Verity; a few minutes later he was in the train and on his way to Earlsfield..