yston looked up, and saw his own discontent reflected in the
countenance of his faithful subaltern; he knew he had found there the
sympathy that he was too proud to ask of any living man.

"I start to-night," he replied; "so you see I have no time to lose. I
can hardly tell you what I mean to do, Hal. Do you remember what we said
about the best way of spending our resources? Well--I have broken into
my last large note; and I suppose I must get rid somehow of the change."

Harry's answer was not very ready, nor very distinct when it came. "I
wish--I wish, I could help you!"

For one moment, there returned to Keene's disciplined face a good,
natural expression, which had been a stranger there since the days of
his hot youth; when he first went forth to buckle with the world--frank,
and honest, and fearless; his voice, too, had softened almost to
tenderness. "Old friend, the time has come to say good-by. Our roads
have been the same--for longer than I like to think of: but henceforth
they must lie so far apart, that I doubt if they will ever cross again.
You will see me off, I know; but I may not be able to say then a dozen
words that I should be sorry to leave unsaid. I'll do you this
justice--in no one instance have I ever seen you flinch when I wanted
your help; though often you had no object of your own to serve. I
believe no man ever had a cheerier comrade, or a better backer. I don't
like you the worse for standing aloof during the last five weeks. I
never had one unpleasant word from you; but if any of mine have vexed or
offended you--see now--I ask your forgiveness from the bottom of my
heart."

It is no shame to Harry's manhood that he could not answer intelligibly;
but ten sentences of elaborate sentiment would hardly have been so
eloquent as the pressure of his honest hand.

Later in the day, Keene went to take leave of _la mignonne_. He did so
with pain and reluctance. Men, utterly hard and merciless toward their
own species, have been very fond of their pets; even when these last
belonged to an inferior order of creation. Couthon would fondle his
spaniel while he was signing a sheaf of death-warrants; and the Prophet,
who could contemplate placidly a dozen cities in flames, and watch human
hecatombs falling under the sword of Omar or Ali, cut off the sleeve of
his robe rather than disturb a favorite cat in her slumbers.

Nevertheless, when two people agree to ignore carefully the one subject
that is uppe