Then it broke upon his mind that were this to happen, Ostermore's blood would indirectly be upon his own head, since for the purpose of betrayal had he sought him out with that letter from the exiled Stuart--which, be it remembered, King James himself had no longer wished delivered.
It turned him cold with horror.

He could not remain idle and let matters run their course.

He must avert these discoveries if it lay within his power to do so, or else he must submit to a lifetime of remorse should Ostermore survive to be attainted of treason.

He had made an end--a definite end--long since of his intention of working Ostermore's ruin; he could not stand by now and see that ruin wrought as a result of the little that already he had done towards encompassing it.
"His papers must be saved," he said shortly.

"I'll go to the library at once." "But the secretary's agent is there already," she repeated.
"'Tis no matter for that," said he, moving towards the door.