llets. First
came Billy; then the battalion. Not a man could keep within fifty yards
of him. They always said afterwards that Billy came through that charge
alive, because he sprinted so fast, that no bullets could touch him. He
rushed at the subject now, with the same headlong courage.

"Lady Ingleby," he said, "there is something Ronnie and I both think you
ought to know."

"Is there, Billy?" said Myra. "Then suppose you tell it me."

"We have sworn not to tell," continued Billy; "but I don't care a damn--I
mean a pin--for an oath, if _your_ happiness is at stake."

"You must not break an oath, Billy, even for my sake," said Myra,
gently.

"Well, you see--_if you wished it_, you were to be the one exception."

Suddenly Lady Ingleby understood. "Oh, Billy!" she said. "Does Ronald
wish me to be told?"

This gave Billy a pang. So Ronnie really counted after all, and would
walk in--over the broken hearts of Billy and another--in role of manly
comforter. It was hard; but, loyally, Billy made answer.

"Yes; Ronnie says it is only right; and I think so too. I've come to do
it, if you will let me."

Lady Ingleby sat, with clasped hands, considering. After all, what did it
matter? What did anything matter, compared to the trouble with Jim?

She looked up at the portrait; but Michael's pictured face, intent on
little Peter, gave her no sign.

If these boys wished to tell her, and get it off their minds, why should
she not know? It would put a stop, once for all, to Ronnie's tragic
love-making.

"Yes, Billy," she said. "You may as well tell me."

The room was very still. A rosebud tapped twice against the window-pane.
It might have been a warning finger. Neither noticed it. It tapped a
third time.

Billy cleared his throat, and swallowed, quickly.

Then he spoke.

"The man who made the blunder," he said, "and fired the mine too soon;
the man who killed Lord Ingleby, by mistake, was the chap you call 'Jim
Airth.'"

CHAPTER XIX

JIM AIRTH DECIDES

Lady Ingleby awaited Jim Airth's arrival, in her sitting-room.

As the hour drew near, she rang the bell.

"Groatley," she said, when the butler appeared, "the Earl of Airth, who
was here yesterday, will call again, this afternoon. When his lordship
comes, you can show him in here. I shall not be at home to any one else.
You need not bring tea until I ring for it."

Then she sat down, quietly waiting.

She had resumed the mourning, temporarily laid