rew a deep breath and seemed to come to himself. He lifted
a face of appalling whiteness and looked at Sir Reginald. "You're very
good, sir," he said. "I was knocked out for the moment. I'm all right
now."

He made as if he would rise, but Sir Reginald checked him. "Wait a
moment longer! Major Burton will be back directly."

"Major Burton?" questioned Monck.

"I sent him for some brandy to steady your nerves," Sir Reginald said.

"You're very good," Monck said again. He leaned his head on his hand and
sat silent.

Major Burton returned with Tommy hovering anxiously behind him. The boy
hesitated a little upon entering, but the Colonel called him in.

"You had better see the message too," he said. "Your sister is ill.
Captain Monck is going to her."

Tommy read the message with one eye upon Monck, who drank the brandy
Burton brought and in a moment stood up.

"I am sorry to have made such a fool of myself, sir," he said to Sir
Reginald, with a faint, grim smile. "I shall not forget your kindness,
though I hope you will forget my idiocy."

Sir Reginald looked at him closely for a second. His grizzled face was
stern. Yet he held out his hand.

"Good-bye, Captain Monck!" was all he said.

Monck stiffened. The smile passed from his face, leaving it inscrutable,
granite-like in its composure. It was as the donning of a mask.

"Good-bye, sir!" he said briefly, as he shook hands.

Tommy moved to his side impulsively. He did not utter a word, but as
they went out his hand was pushed through Monck's arm in the old
confidential fashion, the old eager affection was shining in his eyes.

"He has one staunch friend, anyhow," Sir Reginald muttered to the
Colonel.

"Yes," the Colonel answered gravely. "He has done a good deal for young
Denvers. It's the boy's turn to make good now. There isn't much left him
besides."

"Poor devil!" said Sir Reginald.

CHAPTER II

OUT OF THE DARKNESS

"You said Everard was coming. Why doesn't he come? It's very dark--it's
very dark! Can he have missed the way?"

Feebly, haltingly, the words seemed to wander through the room, breaking
a great silence as it were with immense effort. Mrs. Ralston bent over
the bed and whispered hushingly that it was all right, all right,
Everard would be there soon.

"But why does he take so long?" murmured Stella. "It's getting darker
every minute. And it's so steep. I keep slipping--slipping. I know he
would hold me up." And then after