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take their place。 At first； his father's menacing words lay
by in some safe drawer of memory； biding their hour。 At
first； John was all thwarted affection and blighted hope；
next bludgeoned vanity raised its head again； with twenty
mortal gashes： and the father was disowned even as he had
disowned the son。 What was this regular course of life； that
John should have admired it？ what were these clock…work
virtues； from which love was absent？ Kindness was the test；
kindness the aim and soul； and judged by such a standard； the
discarded prodigal … now rapidly drowning his sorrows and his
reason in successive drams … was a creature of a lovelier
morality than his self…righteous father。 Yes； he was the
better man； he felt it； glowed with the consciousness； and
entering a public…house at the corner of Howard Place
（whither he had somehow wandered） he pledged his own virtues
in a glass … perhaps the fourth since his dismissal。 Of that
he knew nothing； keeping no account of what he did or where
he went； and in the general crashing hurry of his nerves；
unconscious of the approach of intoxication。 Indeed； it is a
question whether he were really growing intoxicated； or
whether at first the spirits did not even sober him。 For it
was even as he drained this last glass that his father's
ambiguous and menacing words … popping from their hiding…
place in memory … startled him like a hand laid upon his
shoulder。 'Crimes； hunted； the gallows。' They were ugly
words； in the ears of an innocent man； perhaps all the
uglier； for if some judicial error were in act against him；
who should set a limit to its grossness or to how far it
might be pushed？ Not John； indeed； he was no believer in the
powers of innocence； his cursed experience pointing in quite
other ways； and his fears； once wakened； grew with every hour
and hunted him about the city streets。
It was； perhaps； nearly nine at night； he had eaten nothing
since lunch； he had drunk a good deal； and he was exhausted
by emotion； when the thought of Houston came into his head。
He turned； not merely to the man as a friend； but to his
house as a place of refuge。 The danger that threatened him
was still so vague that he knew neither what to fear nor
where he might expect it； but this much at least seemed
undeniable； that a private house was safer than a public inn。
Moved by these counsels； he turned at once to the Caledonian
Station； passed （not without alarm） into the bright lights of
the approach； redeemed his portmanteau from the cloak…room；
and was soon whirling in a cab along the Glasgow Road。 The
change of movement and position； the sight of the lamps
twinkling to the rear； and the smell of damp and mould and
rotten straw which clung about the vehicle； wrought in him
strange alternations of lucidity and mortal giddiness。
'I have been drinking；' he discovered； 'I must go straight to
bed； and sleep。' And he thanked Heaven for the drowsiness
that came upon his mind in waves。
From one of these spells he was wakened by the stoppage of
the cab； and； getting down； found himself in quite a country
road； the last lamp of the suburb shining some way below； and
the high walls of a garden rising before him in the dark。
The Lodge （as the place was named）； stood； indeed； very
solitary。 To the south it adjoined another house； but
standing in so large a garden as to be well out of cry； on
all other sides； open fields stretched upward to the woods of
Corstorphine Hill； or backward to the dells of Ravelston； or
downward toward the valley of the Leith。 The effect of
seclusion was aided by the great height of the garden walls；
which were； indeed； conventual； and； as John had tested in
former days； defied the climbing schoolboy。 The lamp of the
cab threw a gleam upon the door and the not brilliant handle
of the bell。
'Shall I ring for ye？' said the cabman； who had descended
from his perch； and was slapping his chest； for the night was
bitter。
'I wish you would；' said John； putting his hand to his brow
in one of his accesses of giddiness。
The man pulled at the handle； and the clanking of the bell
replied from further in the garden； twice and thrice he did
it； with sufficient intervals； in the great frosty silence of
the night the sounds fell sharp and small。
'Does he expect ye？' asked the driver； with that manner of
familiar interest that well became his port…wine face； and
when John had told him no； 'Well； then；' said the cabman； 'if
ye'll tak' my advice of it； we'll just gang back。 And that's
disinterested； mind ye； for my stables are in the Glesgie
Road。'
'The servants must hear；' said John。
'Hout！' said the driver。 'He keeps no servants here； man。
They're a' in the town house； I drive him often； it's just a
kind of a hermitage； this。'
'Give me the bell；' said John； and he plucked at it like a
man desperate。
The clamour had not yet subsided before they heard steps upon
the gravel； and a voice of singular nervous irritability
cried to them through the door； 'Who are you； and what do you
want？'
'Alan；' said John； 'it's me … it's Fatty … John； you know。
I'm just come home； and I've come to stay with you。'
There was no reply for a moment； and then the door was
opened。
'Get the portmanteau down；' said John to the driver。
'Do nothing of the kind；' said Alan； and then to John； 'Come
in here a moment。 I want to speak to you。'
John entered the garden； and the door was closed behind him。
A candle stood on the gravel walk； winking a little in the
draughts； it threw inconstant sparkles on the clumped holly；
struck the light and darkness to and fro like a veil on
Alan's features； and sent his shadow hovering behind him。
All beyond was inscrutable； and John's dizzy brain rocked
with the shadow。 Yet even so； it struck him that Alan was
pale； and his voice； when he spoke； unnatural。
'What brings you here to…night？' he began。 'I don't want；
God knows； to seem unfriendly； but I cannot take you in；
Nicholson； I cannot do it。'
'Alan；' said John； 'you've just got to！ You don't know the
mess I'm in； the governor's turned me out； and I daren't show
my face in an inn； because they're down on me for murder or
something！'
'For what？' cried Alan； starting。
'Murder； I believe；' says John。
'Murder！' repeated Alan； and passed his hand over his eyes。
'What was that you were saying？' he asked again。
'That they were down on me；' said John。 'I'm accused of
murder； by what I can make out； and I've really had a
dreadful day of it； Alan； and I can't sleep on the roadside
on a night like this … at least； not with a portmanteau；' he
pleaded。
'Hush！' said Alan； with his head on one side； and then； 'Did
you hear nothing？' he asked。
'No；' said John； thrilling； he knew not why； with
communicated terror。 'No； I heard nothing； why？' And then；
as there was no answer； he reverted to his pleading： 'But I
say； Alan； you've just got to take me in。 I'll go right away
to bed if you have anything to do。 I seem to have been
drinking； I was that knocked over。 I wouldn't turn you away；
Alan； if you were down on your luck。'
'No？' returned Alan。 'Neither will you； then。 Come and
let's get your portmanteau。'
The cabman was paid； and drove off down the long； lamp…
lighted hill； and the two friends stood on the side…walk
beside the portmanteau till the last rumble of the wheels had
died in silence。 It seemed to John as though Alan attached
importance to this departure of the cab； and John； who was in
no state to criticise； shared profoundly in the feeling。
When the stillness was once more perfect； Alan shouldered the
portmanteau； carried it in； and shut and locked the garden
door； and then； once more； abstraction seemed to fall upon
him； and he stood with his hand on the key； until the cold
began to nibble at John's fingers