Then Wade's meaning was suddenly revealed to him.

He drew back, aghast.
"Good Lord, no! No, no!" he cried out.
"Well," said Wade deliberately, "he will, mark my words, sir.

I don't mind saying to you, Mr.Braden, that he _depends_ upon you." "Are you crazy, Wade ?" gasped Braden, searching the man's face with an intentness that betrayed his own fear that the prophecy would come true.
Something had already told him that his grandfather would depend upon him for complete relief,--and it was that something that had gripped his heart when he entered the sick-room, and still gripped it with all the infernal tenacity of inevitableness.
He hurried on, like one hunted and in search of a place in which to hide until the chase had passed.

At the foot of the stairs he came upon Murray, the butler.
"Mrs.Thorpe says that you are to go to your old room, Mr.Braden," said the butler.

"Will you care for tea, sir, or would you prefer something a little stronger ?" "Nothing, Murray, thank you," replied Braden, cold with a strange new terror.