heer sank their
voices as they neared the carriage; but the woman went forward,
jubilant and ruthless, flaunting her joy as it were a flag blown in
her eyes and blindfolding them to the grief she insulted.

"Stay!"

It was Honoria's voice, cold, incisive, not to be disobeyed. He had
prayed in vain. The procession halted; Lizzie checked her babble and
stood staring, with an arm about Joey's neck.

"Let me see the child."

Lizzie stared, broke into a silly, triumphant laugh, and thrust the
child forward against the carriage step. The poor waif, drenched,
dazed, tottering without his crutch, caught at the plated handle for
support. Honoria gazed down on him with eyes which took slow and
pitiless account of the deformed little body, the shrunken, puny
limbs.

"Thank you. So--this--is what my husband died for. Drive on,
please."

Her eyes, as she lifted them to give the order, rested for a moment
on Taffy--with how much scorn he cared not, could he have leapt and
intercepted Lizzie's retort.

"And why not? A son's a son--curse you!--though he was your man!"

It seemed she did not hear; or hearing, did not understand. Her eyes
hardened their fire on Taffy, and he, lapped in their scorn, thanked
God she had not understood.

"Drive on, please."

The coachman lowered his whip. The horses moved forward at a slow
walk; the carriage rolled silently away into the darkness. She had
not understood. Taffy glanced at the faces about him.

"Ah, poor lady!" said someone. But no one had understood.

They found George's body next morning on the sands a little below the
foot-bridge. He lay there in the morning sunshine as though asleep,
with an arm flung above his head and on his face the easy smile for
which men and women had liked him throughout his careless life.

The inquest was held next day, in the library at Carwithiel.
Sir Harry insisted on being present, and sat beside the coroner.
During Taffy's examination his lips were pursed up as though
whistling a silent tune. Once or twice he nodded his head.

Taffy gave his evidence discreetly. The child had been lost; had
been found in a perilous position. He and deceased had gone together
to the rescue. On reaching the child, deceased--against advice--had
attempted to return across the sands and had fallen into
difficulties. In these his first thought had been for the child,
whom he had passed to witness to drag out of danger. When it came to
deceas