" he asked.

"Nearly four days," she replied, with a shiver.

"And nothing to eat?"

"Nothing."

"The devil! And why?"

She did not stay to think how much it was wise to tell him. In her
repentant mood she was anxious to pour herself out in self-reproach.
"We wanted him to convey some property," she said, "as we wished."

"To your brother?"

"Ah, to him!" Then, seeing his astonishment, "It was mine," she added.

Payton knew that estates were much held in trust in that part, and he
began to understand. He looked at her; but no, he did not understand
now. For if the idea had been to constrain Colonel Sullivan to transfer
her property to her brother, how did her interest match with that? He
could only suppose that her brother had coerced her, and that she had
given him the slip and tried to release the man--with the result he had
witnessed.

One thing was clear. The property, large or small, was still hers. The
Major looked with a thoughtful face at the smiling valley, with its
cabins scattered over the slopes, at the lake and the fishing-boats,
and the rambling slate-roofed house with its sheds and peat-stacks. He
wondered.

No more was said at that moment, however, for Flavia saw that Colonel
Sullivan's strength was not to be revived in an hour. He must be
assisted to the house and cared for there. But in the meantime, and to
lend some strength, she was anxious to give him such wine and food as
he could safely take. To procure these she entered the room in which he
had been confined.

As she cast her eyes round its dismal interior, marked the poor handful
of embers that told of his long struggle with the cold, marked the one
chair which he had saved--for to lie on the floor had been
death--marked the beaten path that led from the chair to the window,
and spoke of many an hour of painful waiting and of hope deferred, she
saw the man in another, a more gentle, a more domestic aspect. She had
seen the heroism, she now saw the pathos of his conduct, and tears came
afresh to her eyes. "For me!" she murmured. "For me! And how had I
treated him!"

Her old grievance against him was forgotten, wiped out of remembrance
by his sufferings. She dwelt only on the treatment she had meted out to
him.

When they had given him to eat and drink he assured them, smiling, that
he could walk. But when he attempted to do so he staggered. "He will
need a stronger arm than yours," Payton said, with a grin. "May I offer
mine?"