resolve to
fight to the last came again.

"Why not speak it? Because I do not wish to do so--at least, not yet.
Why should I ruin you? I do not dislike you; on the contrary, I like
you, as I have told you. So, I shall wait."

"What then?"

"Then I shall demand a price. I am not in this world merely to pass
through it mechanically, like a clock wound up for a certain time. No; I
want things and I intend to have them. I plan for them and I make
sacrifices to get them. My one desire most of all is Helen Harley, but
you are in the way. Stand out of it--withdraw--and no word of mine shall
ever tell what I know. So far as I am concerned there shall be no Lucia
Catherwood. I will do more: I will smooth her way from Richmond for her.
Now, like a wise man, pay this price, Captain Prescott. It should not be
hard for you."

He spoke the last words in a tone half insinuating, half ironical.
Prescott flushed a deep red. He did love Helen Harley; he had always
loved her. He had not been away from her so much recently because of any
decrease in that love; it was his misfortune--the pressure of ugly
affairs that compelled him. Was the love he bore her to be thrown aside
for a price? A price like that was too high to pay for anything.

"Mr. Secretary," he replied icily, "they say that you are not of the
South in some of your characteristics, and I think you are not. Do you
suppose that I would accept such a proposition? I could not dream of it.
I should despise myself forever if I were to do such a thing."

He stopped and faced the Secretary angrily, but he saw no reflection of
his own wrath in the other's face; on the contrary, he had never before
seen him look so despondent. There was plenty of expression now on his
countenance as he moodily kicked a lump of snow out of his way. Then Mr.
Sefton said:

"Do you know in my heart I expected you to make that answer. You would
never have put such an alternative to a rival, but I--I am different. Am
I responsible? No; you and I are the product of different soils and we
look at things in a different way. You do not know my history. Few do
here in Richmond--perhaps none; but you shall know, and then you will
understand."

Prescott saw that this man, who a moment ago was threatening him, was
deeply moved, and he waited in wonder.

"You have never known what it is," resumed the Secretary, speaking in
short, choppy tones so unlike his usual manner that the voice might have
belonged to