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Various

"McClure's Magazine, Vol. 6, No. 5, April, 1896"


"It is done, my lord," said she. "Are you still of the same mind?"
"Still of the same," said I.
"It is death--death for you all," she said; and without more she went
to the great door. Hogvardt opened it for her, and she walked away
down the road, between the high rocks that bounded the path on either
side. Then we went and carried the old man to a room that opened off
the hall, and, returning, stood in the doorway, cooling our brows in
the fresh, early air. And while we stood, Hogvardt said suddenly:
"It is five o'clock."
"Then we have only an hour to live," said I, smiling, "if we do not
make for the yacht."
"You're not going back to the yacht, my lord?"
"I'm puzzled," I admitted. "If we go this ruffian will escape. And if
we don't go--"
"Why, we," Hogvardt ended for me, "may not escape."
I saw that Hogvardt's sense of responsibility was heavy; he always
regarded himself as the shepherd, his employers as the sheep. I
believe this attitude of his confirmed my destiny, for I said, without
hesitation:
"Oh, we'll chance that. When they know what a villain the fellow is,
they'll turn against him. Besides, we said we'd wait here."
Denny seized on my last words with alacrity. When you are determined
to do a rash thing, there is great comfort in feeling that you are
already committed to it by some previous act or promise.


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