at he
was about to revert to the previous question, apparently answered a
summons from his host and slipped back into the smoking-room.

Alton waited a moment, and then moved somewhat stiffly towards a low
stairway which led to a broad landing that was draped and furnished as
an annex to an upper room. One or two of the company were seated
there, and he hoped they would not notice him, for while he could walk
tolerably well upon the level a stairway presented a difficulty. He
had all his life been a vigorous man, and because of it was painfully
sensitive about his affliction. Just then Mrs. Forel came out upon the
landing, and when the girl she spoke to turned. Alton saw that Alice
Deringham was looking down on him. For a moment there was a brightness
in his eyes, but it faded suddenly, and while his knee bent under him
he set his lips as with pain. Then he stumbled, and clung to the
balustrade. For a moment he dare not look up, and when he did so there
was a flush on his forehead which slowly died away as he saw the face
of the girl.

She had also laid her hand as if for support upon the balustrade, for
it was unfortunate she had not been told that one effect of Alton's
injury would be permanent. At the commencement of their friendship she
had been painfully aware of what she considered his shortcomings, but
these had gradually become less evident, and something in the man's
forceful personality had carried her away. Possibly, though she may
not have realized it, his splendid animal vigour had its part in
this--and now dismay and a great pity struggled within her. It was
especially unfortunate that when Alton looked up the consternation had
risen uppermost, for the man's perceptions were not of the clearest
then, and he saw nothing of the compassion, but only the shrinking in
her eyes.

His face grew a trifle grey as he straightened himself with a visible
effort and limped forward, for he was one who could make a quick
decision, while to complete his bitterness Thorne came up behind him
and slipped an arm beneath his shoulder.

"You seem a little shaky, I'll help you up," he said. "An axe-cut?
The effect will probably soon wear off."

Alton understood that Thorne was talking to cover any embarrassment he
may have felt, but was not especially grateful just then. "No," he
said; "a rifle-shot."

He fancied that Thorne was a trifle astonished, and remembered
Seaforth's story, but they had gained the hea