end I shall marry the girl."

"To ruin her life?"

"To save mine rather."

"Do you think yourself able to change the whole course of your life for
her?"

He mused. "Ah, Montagu! There your finger falls pat on the pulse of my
doubt. My heart cries aye, my reason gives a negative."

"Don't worry overmuch about it," I answered, railing at him. "She'll never
look at you, man. My grave will be an insurmountable barrier. She will
idealize my memory, think me a martyr and herself a widowed maid."

The shot scored. 'Twas plain he must have often thought of that himself.

"It may interest you to know that we are engaged to be married," I added.

"Indeed! Let me congratulate you. When does the happy event occur, may I
ask? Or is the day set?"

He had no need to put into words more clearly the irony of the fate that
encompassed us.

"Dead or alive, as you say, I bar your way," I said tartly.

"Pooh, man! I give you six weeks of violent grief, six months of tender
melancholy."

"You do not know the Scotch. She will die a maid," I answered.

"Not she! A live lover is more present than a dead one. Has she sworn
pretty vows to you, Montagu? 'At lovers' perjuries, they say, love
laughs.' Is there nothing to be said for me? Will her heart not always
whisper that I deserve gratitude and love, that I perilled my life for
her, saved the lives of her brother and her lover, neither of them friends
of mine, again reprieved her lover's life, stood friend to her through all
her trouble? You know a woman's way--to make much of nothing."

"Forgive, if I prod a lagging memory, Miss Westerleigh?"

Long he laughed and merrily.

"Eloped for Gretna Green with Tony Creagh last night, and I, poor forsaken
swain, faith! I do not pursue."

You may be sure that dashed me. I felt as a trapped fox with the dogs
closing in. The future loomed up clear before me, Aileen hand in hand with
Volney scattering flowers on my grave in sentimental mood. The futility of
my obstinacy made me bitter.

"Come, Montagu! Listen to reason," urged the tempter. "You get in my way,
but I don't want to let you be sponged out. The devil of it is that if I
get you a pardon--and I'm not sure that I can get it--you'll marry the
girl. I might have you shipped to the Barbadoes as a slave with some of
the others, but to be frank I had rather see you hanged than give you so
scurvy an end. Forswear what is already lost and make an end of it."

I turned away blackly.