think what they please, Mr. Brand," said he,
with absolute composure. "We have more serious matters to attend to."

Brand rose also. He guessed what was coming, and he had nerved himself
to face it. The whole course of this man's action was now as clear to
him as noonday.

"I have been considering further the suggestion I mentioned to you the
other day, that you should go over to some of the big American cities,"
said Mr. Lind, almost with an indifferent air as he turned over some
papers. "We are strong there; you will find plenty of friends; but what
is wanted is cohesion, arrangement, co-operation. Now you say yourself
this Mr. Molyneux would be an admirable successor to you in the North?"

"None better," said Brand. This sentence of banishment had been
foreseen; he knew how to encounter it when it came.

"I think, on the whole, it would be advisable then. When could you go?"

"I could start to-night," he said. But then, despite himself, a blush of
embarrassment mounted to his forehead, and he added quickly, "No; not
to-night. The day after to-morrow."

"There is no need for any such great hurry," said Mr. Lind, with his
complaisant smile. "You will want much direction, many letters. Come,
shall we join your friend in the other room?"

The two men, apparently on the best of terms, went back to Molyneux, and
the talk became general. George Brand, as he sat there, kept his right
hand shut tight, that so he could press the ring that Natalie had given
him; and when he thought of America, it was almost with a sense of
relief. She would approve; he would not betray his promise to her But
if only that one moment were over in which he should have to bid her
farewell!

CHAPTER XXIX.

A GOOD-NIGHT MESSAGE.

Brand had nerved himself for that interview; he had determined to betray
neither surprise nor concern; he was prepared for the worst. When it was
intimated to him that hence-forth his life was to be lived out beyond
the seas, he had appeared to take it as a matter of course. Face to face
with his enemy, he would utter no protest. Then, had he not solemnly
promised to Natalie that nothing in the world should tempt him from his
allegiance? Why should he shrink from going to America, or prefer London
to Philadelphia? He had entered into a service that took no heed of such
things.

But when he had parted from Lind and Molyneux, and got out into the
sombre glare of the night-world of London, and when there wa