e answered. "It cannot and shall not be
broken off, no never. As long as he lives I will cling to him, and the
more unfortunate he is the more I will cling to him. He is--my life."

Le Sage's face had gone white too--at least as far as the weather-beaten
bronze was capable of doing--white with anger.

"So that's your answer?" he said.

"That's my answer."

For a moment they gazed at each other. Then, before a reply could come,
a sound without struck upon the ears of both. It was the creaking sound
made by the swing of a gate upon its hinges. Both faces turned to the
window. Coming up the path between the orange trees was Wyvern himself.

Whereby it is manifest that infinite potentialities lay within the space
of the next half-hour.

CHAPTER SIX.

WHAT THEY DID NOT FIND.

"How are you, Le Sage?" said Wyvern, as his father-in-law elect met him
in the doorway. "You look worried. Anything wrong?"

"Don't know. No--er, well no," as they shook hands. They had been very
friendly before Lalante had appeared upon the scene, and even
afterwards, Le Sage had a sneaking weakness for the other, but what he
could not pardon was what he termed the other's incapacity. A man might
have ill-luck and pick himself up again, but this one, he told himself,
was incapable of that. Nor did it carry any soothing effect that
Lalante went straight to him and kissed him openly and affectionately.

"How glad I am to see you, darling," she said, a sunny light in her eyes
as she looked at him. Le Sage grunted to himself, but it did not escape
Wyvern. Something of warning too in Lalante's eyes did not escape him
either.

"Father is only just back from the sale at Krumi Post," she went on,
"and although he did a good stroke of business there he's come back
grumpy. Well now it's just dinner-time and you'll all be better after
that."

Wyvern was quick to take in that something was wrong, but it never
occurred to him to connect it with the doings of the day before. He set
it down rather to the general disapproval of himself which had become
more and more manifest of late in the demeanour of his quondam friend.
There might have been an awkwardness but that Lalante took care never to
leave them alone together.

"Did anyone take your horse, dear?" she said. "Because, if not, I can
send someone to shout for Piet."

"That's all right, Piet took him from me at the gate. Well, Le Sage--
what did you do at the sale?"

The