ad, and I suppose we must pay for
it. I'll help you to get clear of Batley when the time comes, but you
must never have a deal of any kind with him again."

"That's promised; I've had my lesson. I think I'll ask Lisle to take me
with him when he goes back to Canada. He and Nasmyth are the only men
worth speaking of I've met for a long while. When Lisle first came here I
tried to patronize him."

Bella laughed, rather feebly, but she wanted to relieve the tension.

"It was like you. But we'll go in. This is our secret, Jim. Nobody would
believe you if you let fall a hint as to what really happened, and there
are many reasons why you shouldn't. I think you said nobody else could
have suspected?"

"Nasmyth hadn't come up when the chestnut reached the hurdles; he was the
nearest. Lisle was down with the horse upon him. He couldn't have seen
anything."

"Well," she decided, "perhaps that's fortunate. It isn't likely that
Gladwyne will get such an opportunity again, and at the worst he acted on
the spur of the moment."

The lad nodded. He had felt that silence would entail some responsibility,
but Bella accepted it without uneasiness. She seldom showed any hesitation
when she had decided on a course.

In the meanwhile, Gladwyne had spent a miserable day, alternating between
horror of himself and doubts about the future. Jim Crestwick's
description of the incident was correct--Gladwyne had ridden straight at
the broken hurdle, knowing what the consequences might be and
disregarding them. The next moment, however, the reaction had begun and
he was thankful that he had not committed a hideous crime. Indeed, the
knowledge that he had come so near to killing his opponent had left him
badly shaken. He wondered at his insensate action until he recollected
how he had once stood beside an opened cache in Canada, and then,
ignoring his manifest duty, had hurried on through the frozen wilderness.
On that occasion he had been accountable for his cousin's death, and now
Lisle had very narrowly escaped.

Yet he could with justice acquit himself of any premeditated intention in
either case; fate had thrust him into a situation he was not strong
enough to grapple with. Dreading Lisle, as he did, his chief thought had
been for his own safety when he saw the bay blunder at the leap. To save
the Canadian he must take a serious personal risk, which was foreign to
his nature, and though a recognition of the fact that the death of the
fa