Any alternative must be better than this.
And yet what other alternative was there?
He did not doubt that Val, when disappointed of his prey, would reveal whatever he might know to his wife, or to his stepson.

Then there would be nothing for Alaric but confession and ruin.

And how could he believe what Undy Scott had told him?
Who else could have given information against him but Undy himself?
Who else could have put up so heavily stupid a man as Captain Scott to make such a demand?
Was it not clear that his own colleague, his own partner, his own intimate associate, Undy Scott himself, was positively working out his ruin?
Where were now his high hopes, where now his seat in Parliament, his authority at the board, his proud name, his soaring ambition, his constant watchword?
'Excelsior' -- ah me--no! no longer 'Excelsior'; but he thought of the cells of Newgate, of convict prisons, and then of his young wife and of his baby.
He made an effort to assume his ordinary demeanour, and partially succeeded.

He went at once up to his drawing-room, and there he found Charley and Gertrude waiting dinner for him; luckily he had no other guests.
'Are you ill, Alaric ?' said Gertrude, directly she saw him.
'Ill! No,' said he; 'only fagged, dearest; fagged and worried, and badgered and bored; but, thank God, not ill;' and he endeavoured to put on his usual face, and speak in his usual tone.

'I have kept you waiting most unmercifully for your dinner, Charley; but then I know you navvies always lunch on mutton chops.' 'Oh, I am not particularly in a hurry,' said Charley; 'but I deny the lunch.