It was nine o’clock; the early editions would be out in an hour. He could, if he wished, have called up a tradesman he knew in Chelfordbury, but that would associate his name with the crime, and these villagers gossiped.

For the time being, all thought of the expected letter went out of his mind. But as the tragedy became familiar to him, his thoughts came back to Leslie Gine. The country post would bring the letter, and he would act generously, munificently. There should be no haggling, no bargaining, no balancing of accounts to the last penny. Her word would be sufficient. Overnight he had written his letter, prepared the grand gesture which should break down the last barrier of mental resistance; and, with his knowledge of women, he did not doubt what form the reaction would take.

He went into the little library where he did his work, opened a combination wall safe and took out the letter. He had read it again and again after it had been written, and with every reading he had the warm glow of complacency which men derive from the contemplation of their own generosity.

My Dear Leslie,

Thank you for your letter. I did not doubt that you would keep your word. My answer you will find enclosed herewith – a blank cheque. I make no stipulations, I extract no conditions. Draw the cheque for as much money as your brother requires to clear himself from his dreadful situation. I have given instructions to the bank that the cheque is to be honoured without question.

Fabrian.

It was characteristic of the man, who kept three banking accounts, that the cheque was drawn on a branch where his balance was exactly the amount required to liquidate Arthur Gine’s liability. It would have been a simple matter to have filled in the form for the amount required, but there was a certain nobility, a magnificence, in the blank cheque. It was a carte blanche upon his fortune. He replaced the letter in the envelope, put it back in the safe and pushed the door closed as the telephone bell rang.

The caller was the man who had taken his place at the office. Had he heard anything about Gine?

“We haven’t seen anything of him since you left, and the letters we have sent down for him to sign haven’t been returned.”

Gilder comforted the anxious man with the assurance that Arthur would put in an appearance some day that week. At the back of his mind there was still a great uneasiness about the tragedy at Chelfordbury. He sent a maid out to get a copy of the sporting editions, but they had not arrived at Regent’s Park, and he decided to take a taxi to Piccadilly Circus, and, if necessary, to Fleet Street, to get an early copy. Such a journey would serve the purpose of filling in the time until the country post arrived.