ld man. "For almost seventy years my wrath
against the machinations of hell has burned hot. If God grants me
strength to the end, it will never cool. You, too, have turned to my
enemies in my last days. You would leave me for a young wastrel who has
sung in your ears the song of a male siren. But before I will surrender
my fight for the dictates of the conscience God has given me to be my
mentor, I will see you go!"

"Father!" cried the girl. "You don't know what you're saying."

His face had become frenzied and purpled, his hands were shaking. His
voice was a thunder, rumbling with its agitation. "I must have sinned
deeply--but if the Almighty sees fit to take from me my health, my
child, my last days of peace on earth--if He chooses to chastise me as
He chastised Job--I shall still fight for His righteous will, and war on
the iniquitous chil--"

The last word broke with a choke in his throat. The white head rocked
from side to side and the hands clawed the air. Then William Williams
hunched forward and lurched from his chair to the floor.

In an instant Farquaharson was at his side and bending over the
unconscious form and a few minutes later, still insensible, the figure
had been laid on a couch and the roadster was racing for a physician.

When Conscience came out into the yard later, where her lover was
awaiting her, her lips were pale and her eyes tortured. She went
straight into his outstretched arms and with her head on his shoulder
sobbed out a misery that shook her. At last the man asked softly, "What
did the doctor say?" And she answered brokenly.

"It seems that--besides the paralysis he has a weak--heart."

The man held her close. "I wish to God it could have been averted. I
tried."

"You did all you could," she declared. "But, Stuart, when he came back
to consciousness, his eyes were awful! I've never seen such terror in a
human face. He couldn't speak at first and when he could ... he
whispered in absolute agony, 'Has she gone?' He thought I'd left him
lying there--and gone with you."

"Great God!" It was more a groan than an exclamation.

"And when he saw me he stretched out his hands like a child and began
crying over me, but even then he said bitterly, 'That man's name must
never be mentioned in this house.'... What are we to do?"

"There is only one thing to do," he told her. "We are young enough to
wait. You can't desert a dying father."

While they talked the physician came out of the