go home and be decent. I never thought until this
moment what you must think of me for routing you out in the middle of
the night! And Harriet, too! What will she say?"

He looked at me ruefully, whimsically. It was just as he had said: he
had never thought of it.

"David, I'm awfully sorry and ashamed of myself. I'm a selfish devil."

What a boy he was: and how could any one hold a grudge against him! He
was now all contrition, feared he'd wake up Harriet, and promised to
creep out without making a sound. I asked him to stay with us, but he
insisted that he couldn't, that he must get home. So he opened the door
of the study, and tiptoed with exaggerated caution down the hall. At the
door he paused and said in a whisper:

"David, there _was_ some one at that window."

"Nonsense."

"Well, good-night."

"Good-night, Nort, and God bless you."

He closed the door with infinite caution, and I thought I had seen the
last of him, but a moment later he stuck his head in again.

"David," he said in a stage whisper, "the great trouble is, I can't
think of any heroine, any really _great_ heroine, for my novel that
isn't exactly like Anthy----"

"Nort, get out!" I laughed, not catching the significance of his remark
until after he had gone.

"Well, good-night, anyhow, David," he said, "or good-morning. You're a
downright good fellow, David."

And good morning it was: for when Nort went down the steps the dawn was
already breaking. As I went upstairs I heard Harriet, in a frightened
whisper:

"What in the world is the matter, David?"

But I refused to explain, at least until morning.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXIII

THE BATTLE

It was gray dawn, with a reddening sky in the east, when Nort walked up
the town road. The fire within him had somewhat died down, and he began
to feel tired and, yes, hungry. At the brook at the foot of the hill he
stopped and threw himself down on the stones to drink, and as he lifted
his head he looked at himself curiously in the pool. The robins were
beginning to sing, and all the world was very still and beautiful.

When he got up Fergus touched him on his shoulder. He was startled, and
glanced around suddenly, and the two men stood for a moment looking
into each other's eyes. And Nort knew as well as though some one had
told him, that it had come to an unescapable issue between him and this
grim Scotchman.

"Well, Fergus, where did you drop from?"

He tried to carry