ovement of protest on his nephew's part, "if you'll only listen to
this. It's right to the point, and runs this way: 'The angel of the Lord
encampeth round about them that fear Him, and delivereth them.' They're
camping round about you now, Thor, as I've always told you they would."

Thor raised his head just enough to say savagely over his shoulder, "But
when I never _have_ feared Him, in the way you mean--and don't."

"Oh, but you have--and do. There's two types for that sort of thing,
both sketched in graphic style by the Master. There's the two sons sent
to work in the vineyard, of whom one said to his father, 'I go, sir,'
and went not. The other said, 'I will not,' but went. 'Whether of them
twain,' the Master asks, 'did the will of his father?' I leave it to
yourself, Thor."

Unable to escape from this ingenious pardon that caught and blessed him
whether he would or no, Thor remained silent, while the uncle addressed
himself to the niece. "I'll be off now, Lois, but I'll come back before
long and bring Amy. We'll stay here. The house'll need to have people in
it, to make it look as if it was lived in, till Archie and Ena can be
got at and brought home."

Thor turned and looked from the one to the other distressfully. "Poor
father and mother! What about them?"

It was then that Lois showed that the matter had already received her
attention. "Thor, dear, I know exactly what I'm going to do, if you'll
let me."

She had been so efficient throughout the night that both men listened
expectantly while she sketched her plan. She would cable the facts as
succinctly as she could put them to her own father and mother, who were
in their _petit trou pas cher_ on the north coast of France. They would
then cross to England and break the news to Mr. and Mrs. Masterman. The
very fact of the breach between her parents on the one side and the
bereaved couple on the other was an additional reason for charging the
former with the errand of mercy. Where so much had been taken it was the
more necessary to rally what remained.

Having expressed his approval of these suggestions, Uncle Sim took his
departure.

"Where is he?" Thor asked at once.

"Come."

Though she rose, she lingered to say, with a manner purposely kept down
to the simplest and most matter-of-fact plane: "You'll come up to the
house and have breakfast, won't you, Thor? It will be ready about
eight." As he began to demur on the ground that he couldn't eat, she