elon turned to them all. "I am not going to be married
to-morrow," she said, and her face flushed red. "I had better tell
you. I am not going to be married for a month." She strove to
control her voice, but in spite of herself it rang exultantly at the
last.

Louis and Richard exchanged one look with a sudden turn of white
faces. David stared hard and perplexedly at his daughter. "What's
that ye say?" he asked, after a second's pause.

"I am not going to be married for another month."

"Why not?"

"Lot isn't as well as he was."

"What's the matter? That cut he got?"

"No, I guess not. I think it's his cough." Madelon paled and
shivered, and turned away as she spoke, for the horror of her deed
and the forced pity came over her again.

Her father caught her by the arm as she would have gone out of the
room.

"Look ye here," he said, "is this the whole truth of it? We've got a
right to know. Be ye going to marry him in a month's time?"

Madelon looked at him proudly. "I am going to marry him in a month's
time, and I am not afraid to face all the truth in the world. Let me
go, father."

When she was gone the father and sons stood staring at one another.
There was on all their faces an under meaning to which not one would
give tongue.

Richard jostled Louis's shoulder. "Suppose--" he whispered, looking
at him with dismayed and suspicious eyes.

"Hush up!" returned Louis, roughly, and swung across to the shelf for
his candle.

"If I thought--" began David, with force; then stopped, shaking his
old head. The male Hautvilles went out, one after the other, their
candles flaring up in their grimly silent faces. They were capable of
concerted action without speech, and had evolved one purpose of going
to bed with no more parley about Lot Gordon and Madelon that night.
Brave as these men were, not one of them dared set foot squarely upon
the dangerous ground which two of them knew, and three suspected, and
look another in the face with the consciousness of his whereabouts in
his eyes.

Truly afraid were they all, with that subtle cowardice which lurks
sometimes in the bravest souls, of one another's knowledge and
suspicions, as they filed up the creaking wooden stairs.

Richard looked at Louis in a terrified sidelong way when they were
safe in their room with the door shut. "Hush up!" Louis whispered
again, roughly, as if Richard had spoken. The two brothers were not
to sleep much that night, each being torm