g in
town? If you will tell me where you lodge, I will myself conduct you
thither."

Truelove shook her head, and slipped her hand into that of her brother
Ephraim. "I thank thee, friend," she said, with gentle dignity, "and thee,
too, Angus MacLean, though I grieve that thee sees not that it is not
given us to meet evil with evil, nor to withstand force with force.
Ephraim and I can now go in peace. I thank thee again, friend, and thee."
She gave her hand first to Haward, then to MacLean. The former, knowing
the fashion of the Quakers, held the small fingers a moment, then let them
drop; the latter, knowing it, too, raised them to his lips and imprinted
upon them an impassioned kiss. Truelove blushed, then frowned, last of all
drew her hand away.

With the final glimpse of her gray skirt the Highlander came back to the
present. "Singly I could have answered for them all, one after the other,"
he said stiffly. "Together they had the advantage. I pay my debt and give
you thanks, sir."

"That is an ugly cut across your forehead," replied Haward. "Mr. Ker had
best bring you a basin of water. Or stay! I am going to my lodging. Come
with me, and Juba shall dress the wound properly."

MacLean turned his keen blue eyes upon him. "Am I to understand that you
give me a command, or that you extend to me an invitation? In the latter
case, I should prefer"--

"Then take it as a command," said Haward imperturbably. "I wish your
company. Mr. Ker, good-day; I will buy the piece of plate which you showed
me yesterday."

The two moved down the room together, but at the door MacLean, with his
face set like a flint, stood aside, and Haward passed out first, then
waited for the other to come up with him.

"When I drink a cup I drain it to the dregs," said the Scot. "I walk
behind the man who commands me. The way, you see, is not broad enough for
you and me and hatred."

"Then let hatred lag behind," answered Haward coolly. "I have negroes to
walk at my heels when I go abroad. I take you for a gentleman, accept your
enmity an it please you, but protest against standing here in the hot
sunshine."

With a shrug MacLean joined him. "As you please," he said. "I have in
spirit moved with you through London streets. I never thought to walk with
you in the flesh."

It was yet warm and bright in the street, the dust thick, the air heavy
with the odors of the May. Haward and MacLean walked in silence, each as
to the other, one as to th