as possible."

"He will not be an instant," said Arthur. "I saw him coming up the
street."

Roland Yorke bustled in; a dark young man of twenty-one, with large but
fine features, and a countenance expressive of indecision.

"Come, Mr. Yorke, you promised to be here early to-day. You know that
deed is being waited for."

"So I am early, sir," returned Roland.

"Early! for _you_ perhaps," grunted Mr. Galloway. "Get to it at once."

Roland Yorke unlocked a drawer, collected sundry parchments together,
and sat down to his desk. He and Arthur had their places side by side.
Mr. Galloway stood at a table, and began sorting some papers that were
upon it.

"How is Mr. Channing this morning, Arthur?"

"Much as usual, thank you, sir. Certain news, which arrived last night,
has not tended to cheer him."

"It is true, then?" remarked Mr. Galloway. "I heard a rumour of it."

"Oh, it's true enough," said Arthur. "It is in all the morning papers."

"Well, there never was a more unjust decision!" emphatically spoke Mr.