ished he commented: "You have neither been over loyal
nor over wise--too quick to see the present gain, blind to the greater
one behind--but it is my part to help, not blame you, and I will try to
do so. It is dark now. Please ask for my draught and the candles.
Then I want you to tell me about Geoffrey. You have met him in Canada."

Millicent, retiring, stood for a few minutes looking down from a narrow
window in the bare stone corridor on to the moor. There was no moon,
but the night was luminous, for the stars twinkled with a windy glitter
that was flung back by a neighboring tarn. The call of the curlew
seemed more mournful, the crying of lapwing rose from the meadow land,
and she started at a hollow hoot as an owl swept by on muffled wing.
The night voices filled her with an eerie sensation--there was, she
recollected, always something creepy about Crosbie Ghyll, and, for
Millicent was superstitious, she shivered again at the reflection that
she had cheated a dying man. But she could make partial reparation to
the living at least, and when she came back with the candles there was
resolve in her face.

"You asked me about Geoffrey. He has no reason to be ashamed of his
record in Canada," she said. "I will tell you what I know from the
beginning--and I hope I shall tell it well."

It was a relief to do so, and the story of Geoffrey's struggle and
prospective triumph was a stirring one as it fell from the lips of the
woman who had thrice wronged him. She guessed how her husband's
employers had plotted, having gathered much from the talk of his
guests, and the old man listened eagerly, until he struck the coverlet
when she concluded. Grim satisfaction was stamped upon his twitching
face.

"It is a brave story. I thank you, Millicent; you told it very well.
Ay, the old blood tells--and I was proud of the lad. Went his own way
in spite of me--he is my kinsman, what should I expect of him?
Standing alone for a broken master, with cunning and wealth against him
and his last dollar in the scheme! Quite in keeping with traditions,
and there'll be broken crowns before they beat him down."

The dying man, who had fought perhaps as stubbornly all his life long,
gasped once or twice before he added, "You must go now, Millicent.
Send Halliday to me."

Millicent went out with a throbbing pulse and downcast eyes, and when
the lawyer came in Thurston said: "Read over that partly completed
will."

"Had you not b