d the right at least to say that to the
sweetheart of his boyhood, and the chosen idol of his young manhood's
heart. 'I have seen your father, dear, and whatever there might have
been, it's all over. Good-bye, and--God bless you, always. Always.
Always.'

'I have seen him, too,' she answered, and though the tears rained down
as fast as ever, there was no break in the sweet quiet voice. 'Good-bye.
God bless you.'

This was all their farewell, save that when she turned away with that
uncertain groping of the hand he took it in his own and guided it to the
rail of the staircase. He watched her as she slowly mounted the stairs,
with the light of the candle falling on her hair, and turning its brown
masses to dark gold. All her figure was in shadow, and the dim gold head
seemed to float upward until it vanished at the turning of a corner, and
the feint light on the wall grew fainter. Then he heard the soft opening
of a door, and before it closed again, one sob reached his ears, and
stabbed the heart that had laid within him like cold iron; and he knew
that all her self-control had broken down. The door closed swiftly,
shutting out the last ray of light reflected from the wall, and he found
his way back to his chair, and sat there doggedly fighting with himself,
and praying for Heaven's mercy on her, until his eyes tingled as if they
had been pricked by a needle. Whether he would have it so or no, the
tears came, and as he hid his face in his hands, they dripped between
his fingers to the floor. He was but three-and-twenty, and the first
passion of the pain of life was upon him.

The door at his side was opened stealthily, and his father spoke almost
at his ear, in a harsh whisper.

'Hillo! The hall's dark. They've all gone to bed, I suppose. Now don't
let's have any more chatter. Spain's the land for you, my lad. You'll
start first thing tomorrow. You lie low, and leave me to work things
for the pair of us if I can. If I see that the game's going against us I
shall follow. Good God, what's that?'

'I am here, father,' said Polson, rising. 'I have been waiting to speak
to you.' Jervase started violently at his unexpected voice, and half
recoiled into the room behind him.

'You're here?' he said, advancing with clenched hands. 'What are you
doing here? Eavesdropping?'

'No, sir,' said Polson more sternly than he had ever spoken in his life
till then. 'That isn't my line of country, and you know it. I want to
speak to