But he knew Austin; he knew what would happen to Gerald if, after the late reconciliation with his ex-guardian, he came once more to him with such a confession of debt and disgrace.
No; Austin must be left out; there were three things to do: One of them was to pay Neergard; another to sever Gerald's connection with him for ever; and the third thing to be done was something which did not concern Gerald or Austin--perhaps, not even Ruthven.

It was to be done, no matter what the cost.

But the thought of the cost sent a shiver over him, and left his careworn face gray.
His head sank; he fixed his narrowing eyes on the floor and held them there, silent, unmoved, while within the tempests of terror, temptation, and doubt assailed him, dragging at the soul of him, where it clung blindly to its anchorage.

And it held fast--raging, despairing in the bitterness of renunciation, but still held on through the most dreadful tempest that ever swept him.

Courage, duty, reparation--the words drummed in his brain, stupefying him with their dull clamour; but he understood and listened, knowing the end--knowing that the end must always be the same for him.