ris. Love, that often enough can shake a lifetime of
morality, that can set ethics and right conduct and duty playing a
devil's dance in the victim's soul, that can change the practised
customs of a man's life and send cherished opinions, accepted beliefs,
and approved dogmas spinning into chaos before its fiery onslaught--love
did not thus overpower Martin Grimbal. His old-fashioned mind was no
armour against it, and in that the passion proved true; religion
appeared similarly powerless to influence him; yet now his extreme
humility, his natural sense of justice and the dimensions of his passion
itself combined to lead him by a lofty road. Chris desired another man,
and Martin Grimbal, loving her to that point where her perfect happiness
dominated and, indeed, became his own, determined that his love should
bear fruit worthy of its object.

This kindly design was frustrated, however, and the antiquary himself
denied power to achieve the good action that he proposed, for on
visiting Clement in person and inviting his aid in the clerical portions
of a considerable work on moorland antiquities, the poet refused to
assist.

"You come too late," he said coldly. "I would not help you now if I
could, Martin Grimbal. Don't imagine pride or any such motive keeps me
from doing so. The true reason you may guess."

"Indeed! I can do nothing of the sort. What reason is there against your
accepting an offer to do remunerative and intellectual work in your
leisure hours--work that may last ten years for all I can see to the
contrary?"

"The reason is that you invited another man's judgment upon me, instead
of taking your own. Better follow Will Blanchard's advice still. Don't
think I'm blind. It is Chris who has made you do this."

"You're a very difficult man to deal with, really. Consider my
suggestion, Hicks, and all it might mean. I desire nothing but your
welfare."

"Which is only to say you are offering me charity."

Martin looked at the other quietly, then took his hat and departed. At
the door he said a last word.

"I don't want to think this is final. You would be very useful to me, or
I should not have asked you to aid my labour. Let me hear from you
within a week."

But Clement was firm in his folly; while, although they met on more than
one occasion, and John Grimbal repeated his offer of regular work, the
bee-keeper refused that proposal, also. He made some small sums out of
the Red House hives, but would not