. It pertains to
myself. You have known me, both of you, all my life, and you knew my
father before me. You know what my brother was to me--brother, guardian,
friend. You two have lived your life together; think, each of you, how
bitter now would be the other's loss. What if all was yet youth and fire
and promise--and a villain struck one down, put out life at a blow, and
denied the deed! Denied! went on with trumpets to place and honour! What
would you do, Colonel Churchill, or you, Major Edward? You would do as I
have done, and you would weigh no circumstance, as I have weighed none.
Moreover, right is right, and law and justice must not curtsy even to
pity for the innocent and tenderness for those who suffer! It is right
that this man should feel the hand of Justice. And I can see it as no
other than right that I--when all her paid soldiers failed--should have
taken it on myself to bring him there, before her bar. It is this which
I shall do, and the end is not with me, but with right and law and
order, with the weal of society, yes, and with the man's own proper
reaping of the harvest which he sowed! Else he also is monstrous, and
there is nothing not awry." He paused, made a slight and dignified
gesture with his hands, and went on. "I have done that which I had to
do. I abide the consequences. But it is hard to bring trouble on you
here, and to bring great trouble on--on one other. I wish you to know
that, though I go my way, I go with a pained and heavy heart."

He broke off, and stood with his eyes upon the younger of the two
brothers; then, after a moment and with a note of appeal in his voice,
"Major Edward--"

Major Edward raised his hawk eyes and resolute face. "Trouble enough,
yes, heavy trouble--but I should have done as you have done! It is all
in the great battle, Fair. We'll be friends still, Fontenoy and
Greenwood. There is Unity at the door."

* * * * *

From the Fontenoy coach Unity, who had not been to Roselands since
December, regarded the quiet old place through a sudden mist of tears.
The driveway from the gate was sunk in green; a hundred trees kept the
place secluded, sylvan, and still. Hardly any bloom appeared,--the
flowers were all in the quiet garden hidden by the house,--but through a
small open space could be seen the giant beech tree by the doorstone.

Unity dried her eyes with her handkerchief, and bit her lips until they
were red again. "If you're not