shed, his manner had become again frank, boyish,
impetuous--nay, penitent. He seized Stephen's hand.

"Forgive me, Brice," he cried. "Forgive me. I should have known
better. I--I did you an injustice, and you, Virginia. I was a fool--a
scoundrel." Stephen shook his head.

"No, you were neither," he said. Then upon his face came the smile of
one who has the strength to renounce, all that is dearest to him--that
smile of the unselfish, sweetest of all. It brought tears to Virginia.
She was to see it once again, upon the features of one who bore a
cross,--Abraham Lincoln. Clarence looked, and then he turned away toward
the door to the stairway, as one who walks blindly, in a sorrow.

His hand was on the knob when Virginia seemed to awake. She flew after
him:

"Wait!" she whispered.

Then she raised her eyes, slowly, to Stephen, who was standing
motionless beside his chair.

"Captain Brice!"

"Yes," he answered.

"My father is in the Judge's room," she said.

"Your father!" he exclaimed. "I thought--"

"That he was an officer in the Confederate Army. So he is." Her head
went up as she spoke.

Stephen stared at her, troubled. Suddenly her manner, changed. She took
a step toward him, appealingly.

"Oh, he is not a spy," she cried. "He has given Mr Brinsmade his word
that he came here for no other purpose than to see me. Then he heard
that the Judge was dying--"

"He has given his word to Mr. Brinsmade?

"Yes."

"Then," said Stephen, "what Mr. Brinsmade sanctions is not for me to
question."

She gave him yet another look, a fleeting one which he did not see. Then
she softly opened the door and passed into the room of the dying man.
Stephen followed her. As for Clarence, he stood for a space staring
after them. Then he went noiselessly down the stairs into the street.

CHAPTER XI. LEAD, KINDLY LIGHT

When the Judge opened his eyes for the last time in this world, they
fell first upon the face of his old friend, Colonel Carvel. Twice he
tried to speak his name, and twice he failed. The third time he said it
faintly.

"Comyn!"

"Yes, Silas."

"Comyn, what are you doing here?

"I reckon I came to see you, Silas," answered the Colonel.

"To see me die," said the Judge, grimly.

Colonel Carvel's face twitched, and the silence in that little room
seemed to throb.

"Comyn," said the Judge again, "I heard that you had gone South to fight
against your country. I see you here. Can it be that you