Dan came into the library.

"I suppose you know what's brought me back, grandpa?" he said quietly as he
entered.

The Major started up and then sat down again.

"I do know, sir, and I wish to God I didn't," he replied, choking in his
anger.

Dan stood where he had halted upon his entrance, and looked at him with
eyes in which there was still a defiant humour. His face was pale and his
hair hung in black streaks across his forehead. The white dust of the
turnpike had settled upon his clothes, and as he moved it floated in a
little cloud about him.

"I reckon you think it's a pretty bad thing, eh?" he questioned coolly,
though his hands trembled.

The Major's eyes flashed ominously from beneath his heavy brows.

"Pretty bad?" he repeated, taking a long breath. "If you want to know what
I think about it, sir, I think that it's a damnable disgrace. Pretty
bad!--By God, sir, do you call having a gaol-bird for a grandson pretty
bad?"

"Stop, sir!" called Dan, sharply. He had steadied himself to withstand the
shock of the Major's temper, but, in the dash of his youthful folly, he had
forgotten to reckon with his own. "For heaven's sake, let's talk about it
calmly," he added irritably.

"I am perfectly calm, sir!" thundered the Major, rising to his feet. The
terrible flush went in a wave to his forehead, and he put up one quivering
hand to loosen his high stock. "I tell you calmly that you've done a
damnable thing; that you've brought disgrace upon the name of Lightfoot."

"It is not my name," replied Dan, lifting his head. "My name is Montjoy,
sir."

"And it's a name to hang a dog for," retorted the Major.

As they faced each other with the same flash of temper kindling in both
faces, the likeness between them grew suddenly more striking. It was as if
the spirit of the fiery old man had risen, in a finer and younger shape,
from the air before him.

"At all events it is not yours," said Dan, hotly. Then he came nearer, and
the anger died out of his eyes. "Don't let's quarrel, grandpa," he pleaded.
"I've gotten into a mess, and I'm sorry for it--on my word I am."

"So you've come whining to me to get you out," returned the Major, shaking
as if he had gone suddenly palsied.

Dan drew back and his hand fell to his side.

"So help me God, I'll never whine to you again," he answered.

"Do you want to know what you have done, sir?" demanded the Major. "You
have broken your grandmother's heart and mine--and made u