to that. It'll hold you up, as God
always meant it should."

Nap made an inarticulate sound of dissent, but the quiet restraint of his
brother's touch seemed to help him. He became still under it, as if some
spell were upon him.

After a time Lucas went on in the weary drawl that yet held such an
infinite amount of human kindness. "Did you think I'd cut you out, Boney?
Mighty lot you seem to know of me! It's true that for a time I thought
myself necessary to her. Maybe, for a time I was. She hadn't much to live
for anyway. It's true that when you didn't turn up in Arizona I left off
expecting you to be faithful to yourself or to her. And so it seemed best
to take what she gave and to try to make her as happy as circumstances
would allow. But I never imagined that I ruled supreme. I know too well
that what a woman has given once she can never give again. I didn't
expect it of her. I never asked it. She gave me what she could, and I--I
did the same for her. But that bargain wouldn't satisfy either of us now.
No--no! We'll play the game like men--like brothers. And you must do your
part. Believe me, Boney, I desire nothing so earnestly as her happiness,
and if when I come to die I have helped to make this one woman happy,
then I shall not have lived in vain."

Nap turned his head sharply. "Don't talk of dying! You couldn't die! And
do you seriously imagine for a single instant that I could ever give her
happiness?"

"I imagine so, dear fellow, since she loves you."

"I tell you she wouldn't have me if I asked her."

"You don't know. Anyway, she must have the chance. If she doesn't take
it, well, she isn't the woman I imagine her to be."

"She's a saint," Nap said, with vehemence. "And you, Luke,--you're
another. You were made for each other. She would be ten million times
happier with you. Why do you want her to marry a blackguard?"

A shadow touched Lucas Errol's face, but it was only for an instant; the
next he smiled. "You are not a blackguard, Boney. I always said so. And
the love of a good woman will be your salvation. No, you're wrong. I
couldn't give her real happiness. There is only one man in the world can
give her that. And I--am not that man." He paused; his eyelids had begun
to droop, heavily. "Say, Nap, I believe I could sleep now," he said.

"Yes, yes, old chap, you shall." Nap raised himself abruptly, banishing
his weakness in a breath; only a certain unwonted gentleness remained.
"You shall," he s