h the breeze from
the southeast, I made out he should have been in an hour or more. The
old man had never spoken to me once: and before we got there I had begun
to hope we shouldn't find the fellow after all. We made the driver pull
up in the road, and walked round and round, trying to find the door.
Then some one cried, 'Who are you?'

"'John Ford.'

"'What do you want?' It was old Pearse.

"'To see Zachary Pearse.'

"The long window out of the porch where we sat the other day was open,
and in we went. There was a door at the end of the room, and a light
coming through. John Ford went towards it; I stayed out in the dark.

"'Who's that with you?'

"'Mr. Treffry.'

"'Let him come in!' I went in. The old fellow was in bed, quite still on
his pillows, a candle by his side; to look at him you'd think nothing of
him but his eyes were alive. It was queer being there with those two old
men!"

Dan paused, seemed to listen, then went on doggedly.

"'Sit down, gentleman,' said old Pearse. 'What may you want to see my
son for?' John Ford begged his pardon, he had something to say, he said,
that wouldn't wait.

"They were very polite to one another," muttered Dan ....

"'Will you leave your message with me?' said Pearse.

"'What I have to say to your son is private.'

"'I'm his father.'

"'I'm my girl's grandfather; and her only stand-by.'

"'Ah!' muttered old Pearse, 'Rick Voisey's daughter?'

"'I mean to see your son.'

"Old Pearse smiled. Queer smile he's got, sort of sneering sweet.

"'You can never tell where Zack may be,' he said. 'You think I want to
shield him. You're wrong; Zack can take care of himself.'

"'Your son's here!' said John Ford. 'I know.' Old Pearse gave us a very
queer look.

"'You come into my house like thieves in the night,' he said, 'and give
me the lie, do you?'

"'Your son came to my child's room like a thief in the night; it's for
that I want to see him,' and then," said Dan, "there was a long silence.
At last Pearse said:

"'I don't understand; has he played the blackguard?'

"John Ford answered, 'He's married her, or, before God, I'd kill him.'

"Old Pearse seemed to think this over, never moving on his pillows. 'You
don't know Zack,' he said; 'I'm sorry for you, and I'm sorry for Rick
Voisey's daughter; but you don't know Zack.'

"'Sorry!' groaned out John Ford; 'he's stolen my child, and I'll punish
him.'

"'Punish!' cried old Pearse, 'we don't take punishment, n