hadn't meant to rob Hartley of the credit he deserves. I suppose you're
right."

He was possessed of a sudden longing to get away out of that room, and
he rose to his feet.

"If you don't mind," he said, "I think I'd better go. This is--well,
it's a bit of a facer, you see. I want to think it over. Perhaps
to-morrow--you don't mind?"

He saw a swift relief flash into Miss Benham's eyes, but she murmured a
few words of protest that had a rather perfunctory sound. Ste. Marie
shook his head.

"Thanks! I won't stay," said he. "Not just now. I--think I'd better go."

He had a confused realization of platitudinous adieus, of a silly
formality of speech, and he found himself in the hall. Once he glanced
back and Miss Benham was standing where he had left her, looking after
him with a calm and unimpassioned face. He thought that she looked
rather like a very beautiful statue.

The butler came to him to say that Mr. Stewart would be glad if he would
look in before leaving the house, and so he went up-stairs and knocked
at old David's door. He moved like a man in a dream, and the things
about him seemed to be curiously unreal and rather far away, as they
seem sometimes in a fever.

He was admitted at once, and he found the old man sitting up in bed,
clad in one of his incredibly gorgeous mandarin's jackets--plum-colored
satin this time, with peonies--overflowing with spirits and good-humor.
His grandson sat in a chair near at hand. The old man gave a shout of
welcome:

"Ah, here's Jason at last, back from Colchis! Welcome home to--whatever
the name of the place was! Welcome home!"

He shook Ste. Marie's hand with hospitable violence, and Ste. Marie was
astonished to see upon what a new lease of life and strength the old man
seemed to have entered. There was no ingratitude or misconception here,
certainly. Old David quite overwhelmed his visitor with thanks and with
expressions of affection.

"You've saved my life among other things!" he said, in his gruff roar.
"I was ready to go, but, by the Lord, I'm going to stay awhile longer
now! This world's a better place than I thought--a much better place."
He shook a heavily waggish head. "If I didn't know," said he, "what your
reward is to be for what you've done, I should be in despair over it
all, because there is nothing else in the world that would be anything
like adequate. You've been making sure of the reward down-stairs, I dare
say? Eh, what? Yes?"

"You mean--?