st have had
misery far worse, for neither vice nor poverty alone could so shatter a
human being. The son's pity seemed to look down from a great height upon
the contemptible figure with the beautiful white hair and the abominable
mouth. This compassion kept him from becoming hard, but it would also
preserve him to hourly sacrifice--Prometheus chained to his rock. In
the short fortnight that had gone since the day upon the Ecrehos, he had
changed as much as do most people in ten years. Since then he had seen
neither Philip nor Guida.

To Carterette he seemed not the man she had known. With her woman's
instinct she knew that he loved Guida, but she also knew that nothing
which might have happened between them could have brought this look of
shame and shrinking into his face. As these thoughts flashed through her
mind her heart grew warmer. Suppose Ranulph was in some trouble--well,
now might be her great chance. She might show him that he could not live
without her friendship, and then perhaps, by-and-bye, that he could not
live without her love.

Ranulph was about to move on. She stopped him. "When you need me, Maitre
Ranulph, you know where to find me," she said scarce above a whisper. He
looked at her sharply, almost fiercely, but again the tenderness of her
eyes, the directness of her gaze, convinced him. She might be, as
she was, variable with other people; with himself she was invincibly
straightforward.

"P'raps you don't trust me?" she added, for she read his changing
expression.

"I'd trust you quick enough," he said.

"Then do it now--you're having some bad trouble," she rejoined.

He leaned over her stall and said to her steadily and with a little
moroseness:

"See you, ma garche, if I was in trouble I'd bear it by myself. I'd ask
no one to help me. I'm a man, and I can stand alone. Don't go telling
folks I look as if I was in trouble. I'm going to launch to-morrow the
biggest ship ever sent from a Jersey building yard--that doesn't look
like trouble, does it? Turn about is fair play, garcon Cart'rette: so
when you're in trouble come to me. You're not a man, and it's a man's
place to help a woman, all the more when she's a fine and good little
stand-by like you."

He forced a smile, turned upon his heel, and threaded his way through
the square, keeping a look-out for his father. This he could do easily,
for he was the tallest man in the Vier Marchi by at least three inches.

Carterette, oblivious of