w believed--to be his father. He had thought, but he was far from
having chosen between Scotland and France, when Crispin now greeted him,
not without constraint.

"Jocelyn," he said, speaking slowly, almost humbly. "In an hour's time I
shall set out to return to Marleigh to fulfil my last night's promise to
you. How I shall accomplish it I scarce know as yet; but accomplish it
I shall. I have arranged to have a vessel awaiting me, and within three
days--or four at the most--I look to cross to France, bearing your bride
with me."

He paused for some reply, but none came. The boy sat on with an
impassive face, his eyes glued to the table, but his mind busy enough
upon that which his father was pouring into his ear. Presently Crispin
continued:

"You cannot refuse to do as I suggest, Jocelyn. I shall make you the
fullest amends for the harm that I have done you, if you but obey my
directions. You must quit this place as soon as possible, and proceed on
your way to London. There you must find a boat to carry you to France,
and you will await me at the Auberge du Soleil at Calais. You are
agreed, Jocelyn?"

There was a slight pause, and Jocelyn took his resolution. Yet there was
still a sullen look in the eyes he lifted to his father's face.

"I have little choice, sir," he made answer, "and so I must agree. If
you accomplish what you promise, I own that you will have made amends,
and I shall crave your pardon for my yesternight's want of faith. I
shall await you at Calais."

Crispin sighed, and for a second his face hardened. It was not the
answer to which he held himself entitled, and for a moment it rose to
the lips of this man of fierce and sudden moods to draw back and let
the son, whom at the moment he began to detest, go his own way, which
assuredly would lead him to perdition. But a second's thought sufficed
to quell that mood of his.

"I shall not fail you," he said coldly. "Have you money for the
journey?"

The boy flushed as he remembered that little was left of what Joseph
Ashburn had given him. Crispin saw the flush, and reading aright its
meaning, he drew from his pocket a purse that he had been fingering,
and placed it quietly upon the table. "There are fifty Caroluses in that
bag. That should suffice to carry you to France. Fare you well until we
meet at Calais."

And without giving the boy time to utter thanks that might be unwilling,
he quickly left the room.

Within the hour he was in the sa