he must not try to force its
benefits and rewards. He must not approach it like the highwayman.
Tell him never to flatter. That is the worst fault in a gentleman,
for flattery makes false friends and the flatterer himself false.
Tell him that good address is for ease and courtesy of life, but it
must not be used to one's secret advantage as I have used mine to
mortal undoing. If ever Guilbert be in great temptation, tell him
his father's story, and read him these words to you, written, as you
see, with the cramped fingers of death.

He could scarcely hold the pen now, and his eyes were growing dim.

... I am come to the end of my strength. I thought I loved
you, Guida, but I know now that it was not love--not real love. Yet
it was all a twisted manhood had to give. There are some things of
mine that you will keep for your son, if you forgive me dead whom
you despised living. Detricand Duke of Bercy will deal honourably
by you. All that is mine at the Castle of Bercy he will secure to
you. Tell him I have written it so; though he will do it of
himself, I know. He is a great man. As I have gone downwards he
has come upwards. There has been a star in his sky too. I know it,
I know it, Guida, and he--he is not blind. The light is going, I
cannot see. I can only--

He struggled fiercely for breath, but suddenly collapsed upon the table,
and his head fell forward upon the paper; one cheek lying in the wet
ink of his last written words, the other, cold and stark, turned to
the window. The light from the lamp without flickered on it in gruesome
sportiveness. The eyes stared and stared from the little dark room out
into the world. But they did not see.

The night wore on. At last came a knocking, knocking at the door-tap!
tap! tap! But he did not hear. A moment of silence, and again came a
knocking--knocking--knocking...!

CHAPTER XLV

The white and red flag of Jersey was flying half-mast from the Cohue
Royale, and the bell of the parish church was tolling. It was Saturday,
but little business was being done in the Vier Marchi. Chattering people
were gathered at familiar points, and at the foot of La Pyramide a large
group surrounded two sailor-men just come from Gaspe, bringing news of
adventuring Jersiais--Elie Mattingley, Carterette and Ranulph Delagarde.
This audience quickly grew, for word was being passed on from one
little group to another. So keen was