e the old man would have
dared to tell. And to hold these cards successfully it would be
necessary to continue in Kennedy's mind the belief that Peter did not
share McGuire's confidences. It would also be necessary for Peter to
cast in his lot, apparently, with Kennedy against McGuire. It was a
dirty business at best, but he meant to carry it through if he could,
and get the signed agreement from the blackmailer.

Peter seemed to remember an old wallet that Jim Coast had always
carried. He had seen it after Coast had taken slips of paper from it and
showed them to Peter,--newspaper clippings, notes from inamorata and the
like--but of course, never the paper now in question. And if he had
carried it all these years, where was it now? In the vault of some bank
or trust company probably, and this would make Peter's task difficult,
if not impossible.

Peter got up and paced the floor, thinking deeply of all these things in
their relation to Beth. And then at last he went out into the night, his
footsteps impelled toward the village. After all, the thoughts uppermost
in his mind were of Beth herself. Whatever the cost to his pride, he
would have to make his peace with her. He knew that now. Why otherwise
did his restless feet lead him out into the pasture back of the little
post office toward the rear of Mrs. Bergen's house? Yet there he found
himself presently, smoking his corncob pipe for comfort, and staring at
the solitary light in Tillie Bergen's parlor, which proclaimed its
occupant. Mrs. Bergen's house stood at a little distance from its
nearest neighbor, and Peter stole slowly through the orchard at the rear
toward the open window. It was then that he heard the music for the
first time, the "harmonium" wailing softly, while sweet and clear above
the accompaniment (worked out painstakingly but lovingly by the girl
herself) came Beth's voice singing the "Elegie."

Peter came closer until he was just at the edge of the shadow outside
the window. He knew that her back would be turned to him and so he
peered around the shutter at her unconscious back. She sang the song
through until the end and then after a pause sang it again. Peter had no
ear now for the phrasing, for faults in technique, or inaccuracies in
enunciation. What he heard was the soul of the singer calling. All that
he had taught her in the hours in the Cabin was in her voice--and
something more that she had learned elsewhere.... Her voice was
richer--dee