hey can about him. Oh, Paul, don't you
see.

"It's up agin a man, sonny," said Barney Bill, limping towards them,
"it's up agin a candidate, you understand, him not being a Fenian or a
Irish patriot, that he's been in gaol. Penal servitude ain't a nice
state of life to be reminded of, sonny. Whereas if you leaves things as
they is, nobody's going to ask no questions."

"That's my point," said Silas Finn.

Paul looked from one to the other, darkly. In a kind of dull fierce
passion he had made up his mind to clear himself before the world, to
rend to tatters his garments of romance, to snap his fingers at the
stars and destiny and such-like deluding toys, to stand a young Ajax
defying the thunderbolts. Here came the first check.

"If they found out as how he'd done time, they'd find out for why,"
said Bill, cocking his head earnestly.

As Paul, engaged in sombre thought, made no reply, Silas turned away,
his hands uplifted in supplication, and prayed aloud. He had sinned in
giving way to his anger. He prostrated himself before the divine
vengeance. If this was his apportioned punishment, might God give him
meekness and strength to bear it. The tremulous, crying voice, the
rapt, fanatical face, and the beseeching attitude struck a bizarre note
in the comfortable and worldly room. Supported on either side by Jane,
helpless and anxious, and Barney Bill, crooked, wrinkled, with his
close-cropped white hair and little liquid diamond eyes, still
nervously tearing his hat-brim, he looked almost grotesque. To Paul he
seemed less a man than a creation of another planet, with unknown and
incalculable instincts and impulses, who had come to earth and with
foolish hand had wiped out the meaning of existence. Yet he felt no
resentment, but rather a weary pity for the stranger blundering through
an unsympathetic world. As soon as there came a pause in the prayer, he
said not ungently:

"The Almighty is not going to use me as an instrument to punish you, if
I can help it. I quite appreciate your point. I'll say nothing."

Barney Bill jerked his thumb towards the chair where the Princess had
been sitting:

"She won't give it away?"

Paul smiled sadly. "No, old man. She'll keep it to herself."

That marked the end of the interview. Paul accompanied the three
downstairs.

"I meant to act for the best, Paul," said Silas piteously, on parting.
"Tell me that I haven't made you my enemy."

"God forbid," said Paul.

He went sl