flute. Mechanically he had put it in his pocket when he dressed in the
morning. He took it out and looked at it lovingly. Into it he had poured
his soul in the old days--days, centuries away, it seemed now. It should
still be the link with the old life. He rose and walked towards his home
again. The future spread clearly before him. Rapine, murder, tyranny,
oppression, were round him on every side, and the ruler of the land
called him to his counsels. Here a great duty lay--his life for this
land, his life, and his love, and his faith. He would expiate his crime
and his sin, the crime of homicide for which he alone was responsible,
the sin of secrecy for which he and another were responsible. And that
other? If only there had been but one word of understanding between them
before she left!

At the door of his house stood the American whom he had met at the
citadel yesterday-it seemed a hundred years ago.

"I've got a letter for you," Lacey said. "The lady's aunt and herself
are cousins of mine more or less removed, and originally at home in the
U. S. A. a generation ago. Her mother was an American. She didn't know
your name--Miss Hylda Maryon, I mean. I told her, but there wasn't time
to put it on." He handed over the unaddressed envelope.

David opened the letter, and read:

"I have seen the papers. I do not understand what has happened, but I
know that all is well. If it were not so, I would not go. That is the
truth. Grateful I am, oh, believe me! So grateful that I do not yet know
what is the return which I must make. But the return will be made. I
hear of what has come to you--how easily I might have destroyed all! My
thoughts blind me. You are great and good; you will know at least that
I go because it is the only thing to do. I fly from the storm with a
broken wing. Take now my promise to pay what I owe in the hour Fate
wills--or in the hour of your need. You can trust him who brings this to
you; he is a distant cousin of my own. Do not judge him by his odd and
foolish words. They hide a good character, and he has a strong nature.
He wants work to do. Can you give it? Farewell."

David put the letter in his pocket, a strange quietness about his heart.

He scarcely realised what Lacey was saying. "Great girl that. Troubled
about something in England, I guess. Going straight back."

David thanked him for the letter. Lacey became red in the face. He
tried to say something, but failed. "Thee wishes to say somet