"I have chosen to keep in touch with your--career, Berkley."
Berkley's upper lip again twitched unpleasantly; but, when at
length he spoke, he spoke more calmly than before and his mobile
features were in pallid repose.
"One of your brokers--Cone--stopped me. I was too confused to
understand what he wanted of me. I went with him to your
attorneys--" Like lightning the snarl twitched his mouth again; he
made as though to rise, and controlled himself in the act.
"Where are the originals of those letters?" he managed to say at
last.
"In this house."
"Am I to have them?"
"I think so."
"So do I," said the young man with a ghastly smile. "I'm quite
sure of it."
Colonel Arran regarded him in surprise.
"There is no occasion for violence in this house, Berkley."
"Where are the letters?"
"Have you any doubts concerning what my attorneys have told you?
The originals are at your immediate disposal if you wish."
Then Berkley struck the table fiercely, and stood up, as claret
splashed and trembling crystal rang.
"That's all I want of you!" he said. "Do you understand what
you've done? You've killed the last shred of self-respect in me!
Do you think I'd take anything at your hands? I never cared for
anybody in the world except my mother. If what your lawyers tell
me is true--" His voice choked; he stood swaying a moment, face
covered by his hands,
"Berkley!"
The young man's hands fell; he faced the other, who had risen to
his heavy six-foot height, confronting him across the table.
"Berkley, whatever claim you have on me--and I'm ignoring the
chance that you have none----"
"By God, I tell you I have none! I want none! What you have done
to her you have done to me! What you and your conscience and your
cruelty and your attorneys did to her twenty-four years ago, you
have done this day to me! As surely as you outlawed her, so have
you outlawed me to-day. That is what I now am, an outlaw!"
"It was insulted civilisation that punished, not I, Berkley----"
"It was you! You took your shrinking pound of flesh. I know your
sort. Hell is full of them singing psalms!"
Colonel Arran sat silently stern a moment. Then the congested
muscles, habituated to control, relaxed again. He said, under
perfect self-command: