the wall.

"I've been there," he said; "I 'm near there now."

Dart took up speech again.

"There was no answer--none. As I stood waiting--God knows for what--the
dead stillness of the room was like the dead stillness of the grave. And
I went out saying to my soul, 'This is what happens to the fool who
cries aloud in his pain.'"

"I've cried aloud," said the thief, "and sometimes it seemed as if an
answer was coming--but I always knew it never would!" in a tortured
voice.

"'T ain't fair to arst that wye," Glad put in with shrewd logic.

"Miss Montaubyn she allers knows it WILL come--an' it does."

"Something--not myself--turned my feet toward this place," said Dart. "I
was thrust from one thing to another. I was forced to see and hear
things close at hand. It has been as if I was under a spell. The woman
in the room below--the woman lying dead!" He stopped a second, and then
went on: "There is too much that is crying out aloud. A man such as I
am--it has FORCED itself upon me--cannot leave such things and give
himself to the dust. I cannot explain clearly because I am not thinking
as I am accustomed to think. A change has come upon me. I shall not
use the pistol--as I meant to use it."

Glad made a friendly clutch at the sleeve of his shabby coat.