igure, stood beneath the oak and watched that meeting: Hugon, in his
wine-colored coat and Blenheim wig, fierce, inquisitive, bragging of what
he might do; the girl suddenly listless, silent, set only upon an
immediate return through the fields to the glebe house.

She carried her point, and the two went away without let or hindrance from
the master of Fair View, who leaned against the stem of the oak and
watched them go. He had been very ill, and the hour's search, together
with this unwonted beating of his heart, had made him desperately
weary,--too weary to do aught but go slowly and without overmuch of
thought to the spot where he had left his horse, mount it, and ride as
slowly homeward. To-morrow, he told himself, he would manage differently;
at least, she should be made to hear him. In the mean time there was the
night to be gotten through. MacLean, he remembered, was coming to the
great house. What with wine and cards, thought might for a time be pushed
out of doors.

CHAPTER XXIII

A DUEL

Juba, setting candles upon a table in Haward's bedroom, chanced to spill
melted wax upon his master's hand, outstretched on the board. "Damn you!"
cried Haward, moved by sudden and uncontrollable irritation. "Look what
you are doing, sirrah!"

The negro gave a start of genuine surprise. Haward could punish,--Juba had
more than once felt the weight of his master's cane,--but justice had
always been meted out with an equable voice and a fine impassivity of
countenance. "Don't stand there staring at me!" now ordered the master as
irritably as before. "Go stir the fire, draw the curtains, shut out the
night! Ha, Angus, is that you?"

MacLean crossed the room to the fire upon the hearth, and stood with his
eyes upon the crackling logs. "You kindle too soon your winter fire," he
said. "These forests, flaming red and yellow, should warm the land."

"Winter is at hand. The air strikes cold to-night," answered Haward, and,
rising, began to pace the room, while MacLean watched him with compressed
lips and gloomy eyes. Finally he came to a stand before a card table, set
full in the ruddy light of the fire, and taking up the cards ran them
slowly through his fingers. "When the lotus was all plucked and Lethe
drained, then cards were born into the world," he said sententiously.
"Come, my friend, let us forget awhile."

They sat down, and Haward dealt.

"I came to the house landing before sunset," began the storekeeper sl