bove. . . .

"I shall go there to-day." How long was it since he had heard
those words? Had they indeed been uttered only that morning? Or
did they belong to an entirely different period of his life? He
felt as if many empty and bitter years had passed over him since
they had been spoken. Was it indeed but that morning that the
boy's eyes with their fierce appeal had looked into his--and he had
given him that stern command to await his coming?

His hand went up to the fastening of the window. He knew Guy.
There was a strain of honour in his nature which nothing could ever
change. He would keep that sort of appointment or die in the
attempt. If he still lived--if that frightful cloudburst had not
overwhelmed him--he was there waiting above the raging torrent.

The rain beat with a deafening rattle upon the roof of the _stoep_.
It was falling perfectly straight now as if a million taps were
running. And another memory flashed upon Burke as he stepped
forth,--the memory of a girl who had clung to him in just such
another downpour and begged him not to leave her. He heard the
accents of her voice, felt again the slender youthfulness of her
frame. He flung his arms wide with an anguished gesture.

Another voice, keen-edged and ruthless, was cutting its way through
his soul, lacerating him, agonizing him. "And they loved each
other. That made all the difference." Ah, God, the bitter
difference that it made!

He went down the steps up which he had lifted her on that first day
of her coming, and floundered into water that was half way to his
knees. The rain rushed down upon him, beating upon his uncovered
head. He was drenched to the skin in five seconds.

The lightning flashes were less frequent now, and the darkness in
between less intense. He splashed his way cautiously round the
bungalow to the stable.

A frightened whinnying greeted him. He heard the animals stamping
in the sodden straw, but the water was not so deep here. It
scarcely covered their hocks.

He spoke reassuringly to them as he made his way to Diamond,
Sylvia's mount. Diamond had always been a favourite with him since
the day she had laid her face against his nose, refusing to doubt
him. By faith and love! By faith and love!

He saddled the horse more by feeling than sight, and led him out.
The rain was still beating furiously down, but Diamond did not
flinch with his master's hand upon him. He stood firm while Burke
swung