ntion to this speech he went on: "There is
one point on which I shall be absolute. No one speaks of me when I leave
this. Not alone that you abstain yourself from any allusion to my having
been here, and what you know of me, but that you will not suffer any
other to make me his topic. It is enough to say that a question of my
life is involved in this request. Barnard's fate has involved me in a
web of calumny and libel, which I am resolved to bear too, to cover
the poor fellow's memory. If, however, by any indiscretion of my
friends--and remember, it can only be of my friends under this roof--I
am driven to defend myself, there is no saying how much more blood will
have to flow in this quarrel. Do you understand me?"

"Partly," said she, trembling all over.

"This much you cannot mistake," said he, sternly; "that my name is
not to be uttered, nor written, mind that If, in his short visit, Loyd
should speak of me, stop him at once. Say, 'Mr. Loyd, there are reasons
why I will not discuss that person; and I desire that my wish be
understood as a command.' You will impress your nieces with the same
reserve. I suppose, if they hear that it is a matter which involves the
life of more than one, that they will not need to be twice cautioned.
Bear, in mind this is no caprice of mine; it is no caprice of that
Calvert eccentricity, to which, fairly enough sometimes, you ascribe
many of my actions. I am in a position of no common peril; I have
incurred it to save the fair fame of a fellow I have known and liked
for years. I mean, too, to go through with it; that is, I mean up to a
certain point to sacrifice myself. Up to a certain point, I say, for if
I am pushed beyond that, then I shall declare to the world: Upon you and
your slanderous tongues be the blame, not mine the fault for what is to
happen now."

He uttered these words with a rapidity and vehemence that made her
tremble from head to foot This was not, besides, the first time she
had witnessed one of those passionate outbursts for which his race
was celebrated, and it needed no oath to confirm the menace his speech
shadowed forth.

"This is a pledge, then," said he, grasping her hand. "And now to
talk of something pleasanter. That old uncle of mine has behaved very
handsomely; has sent me some kind messages, and, what is as much to
the purpose, some money;" and, as he spoke, he carelessly drew from his
pocket a roll of the bank-notes he had so lately won at play. "'B