you've been lying—or else promise me what I've said."
Adam, uttering this alternative, stood like a terrible fate before Arthur, who had moved forward a step or two, and now stopped, faint, shaken, sick in mind and body. It seemed long to both of them—that inward struggle of Arthur's—before he said, feebly, "I promise; let me go."
Adam moved away from the door and opened it, but when Arthur reached the step, he stopped again and leaned against the door-post.
"You're not well enough to walk alone, sir," said Adam. "Take my arm again."
Arthur made no answer, and presently walked on, Adam following. But after a few steps, he stood still again, and said coldly, "I believe I must trouble you. It's getting late now, and there may be an alarm set up about me at home."
Adam gave his arm, and they walked on without uttering a word, till they came where the basket and the tools lay.
"I must pick up the tools, sir," Adam said. "They're my brother's. I doubt they'll be rusted. If you'll please to wait a minute."
Arthur stood still without speaking, and no other
