the words go! we'll settle it
this way"----and he sprang at the other's throat.
Keene, cool and well-braced, met him with a heavy blow in the chest. He
recoiled, and I rushed between them, holding Graham back, and pleading
for self-control. As we stood thus, panting and confused, on the edge of
the cliff, a singing voice floated up to us from the shadows across the
valley. It was Herrick's song again:
A heart as soft, a heart as kind,
A heart as sound and free
Is in the whole world thou canst find,
That heart I'll give to thee.
"Come, gentlemen," I cried, "this is folly, sheer madness. You can never
deal with the matter in this way. Think of the girl who is singing down
yonder. What would happen to her, what would she suffer, from scandal,
from her own feelings, if either of you should be killed, or even
seriously hurt by the other? There must be no quarrel between you."
"Certainly," said Keene, whose poise, if shaken at all, had returned,
"certainly, you are right. It is not of my seeking, nor shall I be the
one to keep it up. I am willing to let it pass. It is but a small matter
at most."
I turned to Graham--"And you?"
He hesitated a little, and then said, doggedly "On one condition."
"And that is?"
"Keene must explain. He must answer my question."
"Do you accept?" I asked Keene.
"Yes and no!" he replied. "No! to answering Graham's question. He is not
the person to ask it. I wonder that he does not see the impropriety, the
absurdity of his meddling at all in this affair. Besides, he could not
understand my answer even if he believed it. But to the explanation,
I say, Yes! I will give it, not to Graham, but to you. I make you this
proposition. To-morrow is Sunday. We shall be excused from service if we
tell the master that we have important business to settle together. You
shall come with me on one of my long walks. I will tell you all about
them. Then you can be the judge whether there is any harm in them."
"Does that satisfy you?" I said to Graham.
"Yes," he answered, "that seems fair enough. I am content to leave it in
that way for the present. And to make it still more fair, I want to take
back what I said awhile ago, and to ask Keene's pardon for it."
"Not at all," said Keene, quickly, "it was said in haste, I bear no
grudge. You simply did not understand, that is all."
So we turned to go down the hill, and as we turned, Dorothy met us,
coming out of the shadows.
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