ad counted
on it as a good general counts on such things, confidently, but with
a dozen plans as substitutes in case that plan failed--each plan as
elaborately worked out to the last detail as though it alone existed as
the only hope of victory. But if Siward suspected something of this it
was not from Plank that he learned it.

"Plank," he said at last, "there is nothing in the world that men admire
more than a man. It is a good deal of a privilege for me to tell you
so."

Plank turned red with surprise and embarrassment, stammering out
something incoherent.

That was all that was said about the victory. Siward, unusually gay for
awhile, presently turned sombre; and it was Plank's turn to lift him out
of it by careless remarks about his rapid convalescence, and the chance
for vacation he so much needed.

Once Siward looked up vacantly: "Where am I to go?" he asked. "I'd as
soon stay here."

"But I'm going," insisted Plank. "The Fells is all ready for us."

"The Fells! I can't go there!"

"W-what?" faltered Plank, looking at Siward with hurt eyes.

"Can't you--don't you understand?" said Siward in a low voice.

"No. You once promised--"

"Plank, I'll go anywhere except there with you. I'd rather be with you
than with anybody. Can I say more than that?"

"I think you ought to, Siward. A--a fellow feels the refusal of his
offered roof-tree."

"Man! man! it isn't your roof I am refusing. I want to go; I'd give
anything to go. If it were anywhere except where it is, I'd go fast
enough. Now do you understand? If--if Shotover House and Shotover people
were not next door to the Fells, I'd go. Now do you understand?"

Plank said: "I don't know whether I understand. If you mean Quarrier,
he's on his way here, and he'll have business to keep him here for the
next few months, I assure you. But"--he looked very gravely across at
Siward--"if you don't mean Quarrier--" He hesitated, ill at ease under
the expressionless scrutiny of the other.

"Do you know what's the matter with me, Plank?" he asked at length.

"I think so."

"I have wondered. I wonder now how much you know."

"Very little, Siward."

"How much?"

Plank looked up, hesitated, and shook his head: "One infers from what
one hears."

"Infers what?"

"The truth, I suppose," replied Plank simply.

"And what," insisted Siward, "have you inferred that you believe to
be the truth? Don't parry, Plank; it isn't easy for me, and I--I never
before spok