painful process no doubt!" he
said. "But more wonderful things have happened."

"Pshaw!" said Saltash.

Nevertheless when Larpent rose a little later and bade him good-night, he
reached up a couple of fingers in careless comradeship.

"Good-night, old fellow! Thanks for putting up with me! Sure you don't
want to kick me?"

"Not when you're kicking yourself," said Larpent with a grim hint of
humour.

He took the extended fingers and received a wiry handclasp that caused
him faint surprise. But then, he reflected as he went away, he had always
known Saltash to be a queer devil, oddly balanced, curiously impulsive,
strangely irresponsible, possessing through all a charm which seldom
failed to hold its own. He realized by instinct that Saltash was
wrestling with himself that night, but, though he knew him better than
did many, he would not have staked anything on the result. There were two
selves in Saltash and, in Larpent's opinion, one was as strong as the
other.

It was nearly an hour later that Saltash, prowling to and fro in the
starlight, became suddenly aware of a figure, small and slight, with
gleaming brass buttons, standing behind his vacant chair. He turned
sharply to look at it, some inexplicable emotion twitching his dark face.
Then abruptly he moved towards it, stood for a second as one in doubt,
then turned and sat down in silence.

But as he settled himself he stretched forth an arm with a snap of the
fingers, and in a flash Toby was kneeling by his side. The arm closed
around him like a spring, and Toby uttered a low, tense sob and hid his
face.

Thereafter for a while there was no sound beside the throb of engines and
wash of water. Saltash sat absolutely motionless with eyes half-closed.
Save for the vitality of his hold, he might have been on the verge of
slumber. And Toby, crouched with his head in his hands, was as a carven
image, neither stirring nor seeming to breathe.

The man moved at length, flicking his eyes open as though some unseen
force had prodded him into action. He spoke with a brevity that might
have denoted some sternness but for the close grip of his arm.

"Have you been sulking all this time?"

Toby started at his voice and burrowed a little deeper. "No, sir."

"Well, why didn't you come before?" said Saltash.

"I was--afraid," whispered Toby piteously.

"Afraid! Why on earth?" Saltash's hand suddenly found and fondled
the fair head. His speech was no longer curt, bu