He started at a brisk walk to the little bridge, reached the middle of
it, and stopped short. The talk he had had with Mina Zabriska at this
very spot came back into his mind. "The blood, not the law!" he had
said. Well, it was to the blood he had bowed and not to the law. He was
strong about not having been frightened by the law. Nor had he been
dispossessed, he insisted on that too. He had given; he had chosen to
give. He made a movement as though to walk on, but for a moment he could
not. When it came to going, for an instant he could not go. The parting
was difficult. He had no discontent with what he had done; on the whole
it seemed far easier than he could ever have imagined. But it was hard
to go, to leave Blent just as the slowly growing day brought into sight
every outline that he knew so well, and began to warm the gardens into
life. "I should rather like to stay a day," was his thought, as he
lingered still. But the next moment he was across the bridge, slamming
the gate behind him and beginning to mount the road up the valley. He
had heard a shutter thrown open and a window raised; the sound came from
the wing where Cecily slept. He did not want to see her now; he did not
wish her to see him. She was to awake to undivided possession, free from
any reminder of him. That was his fancy, his idea of making his gift to
her of what was hers more splendid and more complete. But she did see
him; she watched him from her window as he walked away up the valley. He
did not know; true to his fancy, he never turned his head.

Bob Broadley was an early riser, as his business in life demanded. At
six o'clock he was breakfasting in a bright little room opening on his
garden. He was in the middle of his rasher when a shadow fell across his
plate. Looking up, he started to see Harry Tristram at the doorway.

"Lord Tristram!" he exclaimed.

"You've called me Tristram all your life. I should think you might
still," observed Harry.

"Oh, all right. But what brings you here? These aren't generally your
hours, are they?"

"Perhaps not. May I have some breakfast?"

The maid was summoned and brought him what he asked. She nearly dropped
the cup and saucer when she realized that the Great Man was there--at
six in the morning!

"I'm on my way to London," said Harry. "Going to take the train at
Fillingford instead of Blentmouth, because I wanted to drop in on you.
I've something to say."

"I expect I've heard. It's very ki