aid Leighton. "Those lights under the greatest elm."

"Would you please ask if he's there, and if he'd come for a turn with
me. I don't think I'll go in."

Leighton opened the door. They saw a little room, blue with
tobacco-smoke. Flanking the fire were deep settles hiding all but the
legs of the men who lounged in them. Between the settles stood a table,
covered with mugs and glasses. The scene was picturesque--fairer than
the cutglass palaces of the town.

"Oh yes, he's there," he called, and after a moment's hesitation came
out.

"Would he come?"

"No. I shouldn't say so," replied Leighton, with a furtive glance. He
knew that Rickie was a milksop. "First night, you know, sir, among old
friends."

"Yes, I know," said Rickie. "But he might like a turn down the village.
It looks stuffy inside there, and poor fun probably to watch others
drinking."

Leighton shut the door.

"What was that he called after you?"

"Oh, nothing. A man when he's drunk--he says the worst he's ever heard.
At least, so they say."

"A man when he's drunk?"

"Yes, Sir."

"But Stephen isn't drinking?"

"No, no."

"He couldn't be. If he broke a promise--I don't pretend he's a saint. I
don't want him one. But it isn't in him to break a promise."

"Yes, sir; I understand."

"In the train he promised me not to drink--nothing theatrical: just a
promise for these few days."

"No, sir." "'No, sir,'" stamped Rickie. "'Yes! no! yes!' Can't you speak
out? Is he drunk or isn't he?"

Leighton, justly exasperated, cried, "He can't stand, and I've told you
so again and again."

"Stephen!" shouted Rickie, darting up the steps. Heat and the smell of
beer awaited him, and he spoke more furiously than he had intended. "Is
there any one here who's sober?" he cried. The landlord looked over
the bar angrily, and asked him what he meant. He pointed to the deep
settles. "Inside there he's drunk. Tell him he's broken his word, and I
will not go with him to the Rings."

"Very well. You won't go with him to the Rings," said the landlord,
stepping forward and slamming the door in his face.

In the room he was only angry, but out in the cool air he remembered
that Stephen was a law to himself. He had chosen to break his word, and
would break it again. Nothing else bound him. To yield to temptation is
not fatal for most of us. But it was the end of everything for a hero.

"He's suddenly ruined!" he cried, not yet remembering himself. For a
littl