bore him
back a step or two, and then wrenched his legs from beneath him,
bringing him to his knees.

"It is you who are the coward," he cried in a deep voice, "or you would
not have forced on this before two helpless women. Mr Ellis, I claim
Mary by the ties of our old and faithful love. I, John Grange, thanks
to God, strong, hale, keen of sight again as once I was, a man who can
and will protect her while I live. Now, sir, open that door. If there
is to be a struggle between us two, it will not take place here."

"John!"

That one word in a tone of appeal from Mary, and he dropped his hands.

"Yes," he said, with the calm assurance of a man who valued his
strength; "you are right, dear, Daniel Barnett was half mad. That will
do, sir. It is Mary's wish that you should go, and Mr Ellis will not
refuse me a hearing when his child's happiness is at stake."

Barnett rose slowly, looking from one to the other, and finally his eyes
rested upon Ellis, who nodded gravely.

"Yes," he said, "you'd better go, Daniel Barnett. I should not be doing
my duty to my child if I fought against her now."

He walked slowly to the door, opened it, and without another word
Barnett followed him out. Five minutes later the latch of the gate was
heard to click, and as all stood listening, James Ellis came in and
uttered a sigh of relief. There was that in his face which made Mary,
with her eyes bright and a flush upon her cheeks such as had not been
seen there for a year, run to him and fling her arms about his neck, as
she went into a wild fit of joyful hysterical sobbing, which it was long
before she could control.

There was not much to tell, but it was to the following effect. It
dated from the evening when he had been left busying himself in the
garden of old Tummus's cottage, left entirely to himself, trimming up
the roses, and thinking sadly that there was no future for him in the
world.

This had been going on for some time, and he was busily feeling the
prickly rose strands, and taking nails and shreds from his pocket to
tack the wild, blossoming shoots neatly in their places, in perfect
ignorance, after a while, that he was being watched. For, though he
heard hoofs upon the hard green turf beside the road, he supposed the
sounds to be made by some horse returning to its stables from its
pasture on the common, and did not imagine that it was mounted, as he
heard it stop, and begin cropping the young shoots upon t