etter. When Fothergill had given his orders he walked up to
Carroll, touched the lad's shoulder with the tips of his fingers, and
stood away. "Come," he said.

Archie raised himself from the ground and stumbled to his feet: "Come?
where?"

"To Fordborough."

The boy started and stepped back. He looked at the farmhouse, he looked
at his cousin. "I'll come afterward," he faltered.

"Nonsense!" said Fothergill. "I'm going now, and of course you go with
me."

Archie shrank away, keeping his eyes fixed, as if in a kind of
fascination, on his cousin's terrible eyes. The idea of going back alone
with Raymond was awful to him. "No, I can't come, Ray--indeed I can't,"
he said. "I'll walk: I'd much rather--I would indeed."

"What for?" said Fothergill. "You are doing no good here. Do you know I
have a message to take? I can't be kept waiting. Don't be a fool," he
said in a lower but not less imperative voice.

Archie glanced despairingly round. Hardwicke came forward with the paper
in his outstretched hand: "Leave him here, Captain Fothergill. I dare
say I shall go to the inn in the village, and he may go with me. He can
take you the earliest news to-morrow morning."

Archie looked breathlessly from one to the other. "As you please," said
Fothergill, and strode off without another word.

The boy tried to say something in the way of thanks. "Oh, it's nothing,"
Hardwicke replied. "You won't care what sort of quarters they may turn
out to be, I know." And he went back to the house with a little shrug of
his shoulders at the idea of having young Carroll tied to him in this
fashion. He did not want the boy, but Hardwicke could never help
sacrificing himself.

So Archie went to the gate and watched his cousin ride away, a slim
black figure on his black horse against the burning sky. Fothergill
never turned his head. Where was the use of looking back? He was intent
only on his errand, and when that piece of paper should have been
delivered into Mr. Hardwicke's hands the last link between Sissy Langton
and himself would be broken. There would be no further service to
render. Fothergill did not know that the message he carried was to
summon his rival, but it would have made no difference in his feelings
if he had. Nothing made any difference now.

Mrs. Middleton sat by Sissy's bedside in the clear evening light. Harry
Hardwicke's words haunted her: why did he think that Sissy wanted
Percival? They had parted a year ago, and