And Hugh knew that, if it had to be done again, he should again have been compelled to draw by the iron will before which his was as straw.

He could not have met the scorn of those terrible half-closed eyes if he had refused.
"There was no help for it," said Hugh, half aloud.

And yet to die by his own hand within five months! It was incredible.

It was preposterous.
"I never agreed to it," he said, passionately.
_Nevertheless, he had drawn_.

The remembrance ever returned to lay its cold hand upon his heart, and with it came the grim conviction that if Lord Newhaven had drawn the short lighter he would have carried out the agreement to the letter.