"Because, if I don't get away almost immediately I shall find myself arrested"—
"Arrested?"
He nodded, but for a few moments no words escaped his lips.
"Yes, Jack, old fellow, I'm in a terrible fix," he replied in a gloomy tone unusual to him. "I'll confide in you because I can trust you. Three months ago I was hard pressed for money, and seeing a dishonest way of obtaining it, I yielded to the temptation of the moment. I imitated a signature, and drew a thousand pounds."
"Forgery!" the artist exclaimed, dumfounded.
"Call it what you like. The bill is due the day after to-morrow, then the fraud will be detected."
He uttered the words mechanically, his head bowed upon his breast.
Jack Egerton bit his lip. He could scarcely realize the grave importance of his companion's words.
"Are there no means by which I can assist you, Hugh?" he asked presently in a sympathetic tone.
"None. There is room enough in the world for everybody to stretch himself. You understand my departure is inevitable. It is either arrest or exile, and I choose the latter."
"I'm afraid it is; but, look here. Have a trifle on loan from me — say a hundred."
"Not a penny, Jack. I couldn't take it from you, indeed," he replied, his voice trembling with an emotion he was unable to subdue. "With finances at the present low ebb I could never repay you. Perhaps, however, there may be a day when I shall require a good turn, and I feel confident of your firm friendship."
"Rely on it," the artist said, warmly grasping his hand. "You have my most sincere sympathy, Hugh;
