ll from hers. He walked beside her, close
beside her, but not by word or touch did he seek further to persuade her.

And Anne walked steadily forward as one in a dream. It was the only thing
to do, since he had told her plainly that he desired it, since with both
of them Luke must for ever come first. He had drawn them together, he had
linked their hands, but he stood between them to do it, and neither of
them would suffer him to go.

She supposed they would be friends again, she and Nap. She did not fear
that he would ever again cross the boundary line. His love for his
brother ran like a purifying current through his veins. It was the one
streak of greatness in him. Its very selflessness made it stronger than
his love for her. She knew with a certainty that nought could ever shake
that he would be true to Lucas, that never again by word or sign would he
betray that for which he had not scrupled to play her false.

And because she was a woman and understood him she forgave him this. For
she knew that the greater loyalty had done for him that which she had
failed to do. She knew that in uttermost self-sacrifice Nap Errol, the
savage, the merciless, the treacherous, had found his soul.

So side by side in silence they went back to the house.

The evening was very still; passing in from the terrace they seemed to
enter an enchanted palace wherein nothing stirred.

"He may be asleep," Nap said. "Shall I go first?"

She assented without speaking. Somehow the spell of silence seemed to
hold her also.

Tawny Hudson was on guard as usual in the outer room. He looked up with
resentful eyes as they entered, but he said nothing. The door into his
master's room stood half open. Nap paused at it a moment to listen. He
turned to Anne, and she fancied just for a second that there was a
shade of anxiety on his face. But it was gone instantly, if indeed it
had been there.

"Follow me in a minute," he said, "if I don't come back."

And with that he glided through the narrow space and passed from sight.

A minute later, absolute silence reigning, Anne softly pushed back the
door and entered.

She found Nap crouched motionless with outflung arms across the foot
of the bed.

And drawing nearer, she saw that Lucas Errol was lying asleep with his
face to the sky, all the lines of pain smoothed utterly away, and on his
lips that smile which some call the Stamp of Death, and others the
shining reflection of the Resurrection Glor