man like me, but I was always delicate in that way, ever since I was a
nipper--strong as a bull in all else. But this word is private. Look
here, you're a lawyer's clerk?"

He had known that, of course, for some time--known that I was clerk to a
solicitor of the town, and hoping to get my articles, and in due course
become a solicitor myself. So there was no need for me to do more than
nod in silence.

"And being so," he went on, "you'll be a good hand at keeping a secret
very well. Can you keep one for me, now?"

He had put out one of his big hands as he spoke, and had gripped my
wrist with it--ill as he was, the grip of his fingers was like steel, and
yet I could see that he had no idea that he was doing more than laying
his hand on me with the appeal of a sick man.

"It depends what it is, Mr. Gilverthwaite," I answered. "I should like to
do anything I can for you."

"You wouldn't do it for nothing," he put in sharply. "I'll make it well
worth your while. See here!"

He took his hand away from my wrist, put it under his pillow, and drew
out a bank-note, which he unfolded before me.

"Ten pound!" he said. "It's yours, if you'll do a bit of a job for me--in
private. Ten pound'll be useful to you. What do you say, now?"

"That it depends on what it is," said I. "I'd be as glad of ten pounds as