ing. He held him a moment in
talk of the sick man above, and outwardly at least he was now entirely
composed. He dispatched him upstairs again upon a trumped-up errand that
must keep him absent for some little time, whilst himself he went to get
the things he needed.

He returned below with them, and when he had assisted his brother into
fresh garments with as little movement as possible so as not to disturb
his dressing of the wound or set it bleeding afresh, he took the
blood-stained doublet, vest, and shirt which he had ripped and flung
them, too, into the great fire.

When some moments later Nicholas entered the vast room he found the
brothers sitting composedly at table. Had he faced Lionel he would have
observed little amiss with him beyond the deep pallor of his face. But
he did not even do so much. Lionel sat with his back to the door and
the servant's advance into the room was checked by Sir Oliver with the
assurance that they did not require him. Nicholas withdrew again, and
the brothers were once more alone.

Lionel ate very sparingly. He thirsted and would have emptied the
measure of posset, but that Sir Oliver restrained him, and refused him
anything but water lest he should contract a fever. Such a sparing meal
as they made--for neither had much appetite--was made in silence. At
last Sir Oliver rose, and with slow, heavy steps, suggestive of his
humour, he crossed to the fire-place. He threw fresh logs on the blaze,
and took from the tall mantelshelf his pipe and a leaden jar of tobacco.
He filled the pipe pensively, then with the short iron tongs seized a
fragment of glowing wood and applied it to the herb.

He returned to the table, and standing over his brother, he broke at
last the silence that had now endured some time.

"What," he asked gruffly, "was the cause of your quarrel?"

Lionel started and shrank a little; between finger and thumb he kneaded
a fragment of bread, his eyes upon it. "I scarce know," he replied.

"Lal, that is not the truth."

"How?"

"'Tis not the truth. I am not to be put off with such an answer.
Yourself you said that you had warned him not to cross your path. What
path was in your mind?"

Lionel leaned his elbows on the table and took his head in his hands.
Weak from loss of blood, overwrought mentally as well, in a state of
revulsion and reaction also from the pursuit which had been the cause of
to-night's tragic affair, he had not strength to withhold the confid