CHAPTER XIV.

wentyminutes,neitherofthemenspoke.Aflybuzzednoisilyabouttheroom,andthetickingoftheclockwaslikethebeatofahammer. Asthechimestruckone,Campbellturnedround,andlookingatDorianGray,sawthathiseyeswerefilledwithtears.Therewassomethinginthepurityandrefinementofthatsadfacethatseemedtoenragehim.“Youareinfamous,absolutelyinfamous!”hemuttered. “Hush,Alan.Youhavesavedmylife,”saidDorian. “Yourlife?Goodheavens!whatalifethatis!Youhavegonefromcorruptiontocorruption,andnowyouhaveculminatedincrime.IndoingwhatIamgoingtodo—whatyouforcemetodo—itisnotofyourlifethatIamthinking.” “Ah,Alan,”murmuredDorianwithasigh,“IwishyouhadathousandthpartofthepityformethatIhaveforyou.”Heturnedawayashespokeandstoodlookingoutatthegarden.Campbellmadenoanswer. Afterabouttenminutesaknockcametothedoor,andtheservantentered,carryingalargemahoganychestofchemicals,withalongcoilofsteelandplatinumwireandtworathercuriouslyshapedironclamps. “ShallIleavethethingshere,sir?”heaskedCampbell. “Yes,”saidDorian.“AndIamafraid,Francis,thatIhaveanothererrandforyou.WhatisthenameofthemanatRichmondwhosuppliesSelbywithorchids?” “Harden,sir.” “Yes—Harden.YoumustgodowntoRichmondatonce,seeHardenpersonally,andtellhimtosendtwiceasmanyorchidsasIordered,andtohaveasfewwhiteonesaspossible.Infact,Idon’twantanywhiteones.Itisalovelyday,Francis,andRichmondisaveryprettyplace—otherwiseIwouldn’tbotheryouaboutit.” “Notrouble,sir.AtwhattimeshallIbeback?” DorianlookedatCampbell.“Howlongwillyourexperimenttake,Alan?”hesaidinacalmindifferentvoice.Thepresenceofathirdpersonintheroomseemedtogivehimextraordinarycourage. Campbellfrownedandbithislip.“Itwilltakeaboutfivehours,”heanswered. “Itwillbetimeenough,then,ifyouarebackathalf-pastseven,Francis.Orstay:justleavemythingsoutfordressing.Youcanhavetheeveningtoyourself.Iamnotdiningathome,soIshallnotwantyou.” “Thankyou,sir,”saidtheman,leavingtheroom. “Now,Alan,thereisnotamomenttobelost.Howheavythischestis!I’lltakeitforyou.Youbringtheotherthings.”Hespokerapidlyandinanauthoritativemanner.Campbellfeltdominatedbyhim.Theylefttheroomtogether. Whentheyreachedthetoplanding,Doriantookoutthekeyandturneditinthelock.Thenhestopped,andatroubledlookcameintohiseyes.Heshuddered.“Idon’tthinkIcangoin,Alan,”hemurmured. “Itisnothingtome.Idon’trequireyou,”saidCampbellcoldly. Dorianhalfopenedthedoor.Ashedidso,hesawthefaceofhisportraitleeringinthesunlight.Onthefloorinfrontofitthetorncurtainwaslying.Herememberedthatthenightbeforehehadforgotten,forthefirsttimeinhislife,tohidethefatalcanvas,andwasabouttorushforward,whenhedrewbackwithashudder. Whatwasthatloathsomereddewthatgleamed,wetandglistening,ononeofthehands,asthoughthecanvashadsweatedblood?Howhorribleitwas!—morehorrible,itseemedtohimforthemoment,thanthesilentthingthatheknewwasstretchedacrossthetable,thethingwhosegrotesquemisshapenshadowonthespottedcarpetshowedhimthatithadnotstirred,butwasstillthere,ashehadleftit. Heheavedadeepbreath,openedthedooralittlewider,andwithhalf-closedeyesandavertedhead,walkedquicklyin,determinedthathewouldnotlookevenonceuponthedeadman.Then,stoopingdownandtakingupthegold-and-purplehanging,heflungitrightoverthepicture. Therehestopped,feelingafraidtoturnround,andhiseyesfixedthemselvesontheintricaciesofthepatternbeforehim.HeheardCampbellbringingintheheavychest,andtheirons,andtheotherthingsthathehadrequiredforhisdreadfulwork.HebegantowonderifheandBasilHallwardhadevermet,and,ifso,whattheyhadthoughtofeachother. “Leavemenow,”saidasternvoicebehindhim. Heturnedandhurriedout,justconsciousthatthedeadmanhadbeenthrustbackintothechairandthatCampbellwasgazingintoaglisteningyellowface.Ashewasgoingdownstairs,heheardthekeybeingturnedinthelock. ItwaslongaftersevenwhenCampbellcamebackintothelibrary.Hewaspale,butabsolutelycalm.“Ihavedonewhatyouaskedmetodo,”hemuttered.“Andnow,good-bye.Letusneverseeeachotheragain.” “Youhavesavedmefromruin,Alan.Icannotforgetthat,”saidDoriansimply. AssoonasCampbellhadleft,hewentupstairs.Therewasahorriblesmellofnitricacidintheroom.Butthethingthathadbeensittingatthetablewasgone.