since the death of her father. He lived in the poor
back room of the printing-office, worked hard at absurdly low wages, had
few pleasures in life beyond his pipe and his beloved books--and
watched over Anthy. He had seen, far more clearly than Anthy and Nort
themselves had seen it, the growing attachment between them, had seen it
with what misery of soul I can only guess.

He had begun by liking Nort in his rough way, partly because Nort had
come friendless to our office and needed a friend, and partly because he
could not resist Nort; and his knowledge of the true drift of affairs
had not led him to hate Nort. But he saw with the clear eyes of perfect
devotion just what Nort was--undisciplined, erratic, uncontrolled. He
had himself felt Nort's irresistible charm and he dreaded the effect of
it upon Anthy. Nort was likely to tire of Hempfield at any time, he
might even tire of Anthy, having won her, and break her heart. Moreover,
in Fergus's eyes, not Sir Galahad himself would have been good enough
for Anthy.

It was not because Nort appeared penniless, not because he was a tramp
printer, that Fergus began to set so indomitably against him, but
because he was not a _man_. Fergus had that terrible sense of justice,
duty, loyalty, that would have caused him to sacrifice his greatest
friend to serve Anthy as quickly and completely as he would have
sacrificed himself.

Quite unknown to me, Fergus had been watching the situation for some
time, and it was his anxiety which had caused his changeableness of
mood. He was not a quick thinker, and, like many men of strong
character, moved to his resolutions with geologic slowness--and geologic
irresistibility. For a long time he debated in his own mind what he
should do. He finally concluded to take the whole matter into his own
hands. He would deal directly with Nort.

It was worse than he had expected. He had seen the episode in the
starlight at the gate--it burned itself into his very soul--and he had
seen Anthy running toward the house with her face hidden in her hands.
To a certain extent he misconstrued this incident. He could not see what
happened afterward: he could not see Anthy running up the dark stairway
in her home, could not see her turn on the full light in her room and
look into the mirror at her own glowing face, her own brilliant eyes.
She had never before even seen herself! And Nort's words, the very tone
and thrill of them--"You are the most beautiful wom