'Martin's--James Martin's, sir. You were brought here after the
accident.'

'Yes, I remember! Am I badly hurt? I can feel nothing!'

'I fear so, sir! I have sent for Stephen.'

'Sent for Stephen! Am I about to die?' His voice, though feeble, was
grave and even.

'Alas! sir, I fear so!' He sank on his knees as he spoke and took him,
his second father, in his arms.

'Is it close?'

'Yes.'

'Then listen to me! If I don't see Stephen, give her my love and
blessing! Say that with my last breath I prayed God to keep her and make
her happy! You will tell her this?'

'I will! I will!' He could hardly speak for the emotion which was
choking him. Then the voice went on, but slower and weaker:

'And Harold, my dear boy, you will look after her, will you not? Guard
her and cherish her, as if you were indeed my son and she your sister!'

'I will. So help me God!' There was a pause of a few seconds which
seemed an interminable time. Then in a feebler voice Squire Norman spoke
again:

'And Harold--bend down--I must whisper! If it should be that in time you
and Stephen should find that there is another affection between you,
remember that I sanction it--with my dying breath. But give her time! I
trust that to you! She is young, and the world is all before her. Let
her choose . . . and be loyal to her if it is another! It may be a hard
task, but I trust you, Harold. God bless you, my other son!' He rose
slightly and listened. Harold's heart leaped. The swift hoof-strokes of
a galloping horse were heard . . . The father spoke joyously:

'There she is! That is my brave girl! God grant that she may be in
time. I know what it will mean to her hereafter!'

The horse stopped suddenly.

A quick patter of feet along the passage and then Stephen half dressed
with a peignoir thrown over her, swept into the room. With the soft
agility of a leopard she threw herself on her knees beside her father and
put her arms round him. The dying man motioned to Harold to raise him.
When this had been done he laid his hand tenderly on his daughter's head,
saying:

'Let now, O Lord, Thy servant depart in peace! God bless and keep you,
my dear child! You have been all your life a joy and a delight to me! I
shall tell your mother when I meet her all that you have been to me!
Harold, be good to her! Good-bye--Stephen! . . . Margaret! . . . '

His head fell over, and Harold, laying him gently down, knelt besid