smile--a smile that still
lingered upon them when presently he retraced his steps to the room
where his brother sat with Kenneth.

In his absence the lad had dressed Gregory's wound; he had induced him
to take a little wine, and had set him upon a chair, in which he now lay
back, white and exhausted.

"The quarter of an hour is passed, sir," said Joseph coldly, as he
entered.

Kenneth made no sign that he heard. He sat on like a man in a dream. His
eyes that saw nothing were bent upon Gregory's pale, flabby face.

"The quarter of an hour is passed, sir," Joseph repeated in a louder
voice.

Kenneth looked up, then rose and sighed, passing his hand wearily across
his forehead.

"I understand, sir," he replied in a low voice. "You mean that I must
go?"

Joseph waited a moment before replying. Then:

"It is past midnight," he said slowly, "and the weather is wild. You may
lie here until morning, if you are so minded. But go you must then,"
he added sternly. "I need scarce say, sir, that you must have no speech
with Mistress Cynthia, nor that never again must you set foot within
Castle Marleigh."

"I understand, sir; I understand. But you deal hardly with me."

Joseph raised his eyebrows in questioning surprise.

"I was the victim of my oath, given when I knew not against whom my hand
was to be lifted. Oh, sir, am I to suffer all my life for a fault that
was not my own? You, Master Gregory," he cried, turning passionately to
Cynthia's father, "you are perchance more merciful? You understand my
position--how I was forced into it."

Gregory opened his heavy eyes.

"A plague on you, Master Stewart," he groaned. "I understand that you
have given me a wound that will take a month to heal."

"It was an accident, sir. I swear it was an accident!"

"To swear this and that appears to be your chief diversion in life,"
growled Gregory for answer. "You had best go; we are not likely to
listen to excuses."

"Did you rather suggest a remedy," Joseph put in quietly, "we might hear
you."

Kenneth swung round and faced him, hope brightening his eyes.

"What remedy is there? How can I undo what I have done? Show me but the
way, and I'll follow it, no matter where it leads!"

Such protestations had Joseph looked to hear, and he was hard put to
it to dissemble his satisfaction. For a while he was silent, making
pretence to ponder. At length:

"Kenneth," he said, "you may in some measure repair the evil you have
done,