"There are only half-caste bounders crawling about here, Hester," said Alfred Rayner irritably, after the encounter with Leila Baltus and her aunt. "Mrs. Glanton and all our acquaintances have gone to the hills. Go where you will, seemingly, you only get stared at by these odious creatures. Suppose we go towards the Ice House, where we may get a chance of the pavement to ourselves." Hester agreed, nothing loth to prolong her walk, and they wandered on facing the coast with its circling outlets and the great swelling ocean flooded now by the evanescent afterglow of the setting sun. Hester's eye was fascinated by the tender spreading light. She was gazing intently seaward, and did not notice the solitary pedestrian who was slowly approaching them. Her husband did, however, and now and here in this peaceful gloaming was to be enacted a supreme tragedy for two lives. Not till they were face to face did Hester perceive that the solitary walker was none other than David Morpeth. Her heart throbbed uneasily, for she had remarked that more than once even the mention of his name had been the signal for a furious outburst on her husband's part. Her face betrayed her nervousness as she bowed and smiled. But to-night David Morpeth had no eyes for his sweet young friend who held such a warm place in his heart. A letter had reached him from Mr. Fyson of Truelove Brothers some days ago which definitely told him that Alfred was now aware of their close relationship, though Mr. Fyson had refrained from sharing with him the cruel words in which Alfred announced that for the future he rejected with disdain his father's allowance. This was a crucial moment for both--their first meeting since the son was in possession of the secret of his birth. For a second he stared with a searching, fascinated glance at his father's face; while the father, as he raised his hat to Hester, was casting a yearning look of love and longing upon his son. Then he held out his hand, not to Hester, but to his son. Had Alfred willed it, a moment more and life might have been changed for both these defrauded ones! But the young man's corrupted will leant all the other way. He held his hand stiffly by his side, saying: "Come along, Hester, the breeze is getting chilly!" He put his arm in hers and almost pulled her away. "Didn't I tell you the beach was simply crawling with these half-castes to-night," he muttered, as he pushed past his father with an angry scowl. The old man's hand dropped. His face took an ashen hue. The bedrock of trouble had been fathomed. He gazed after his son with a face of unutterable sorrow. "Oh my God!" he groaned. "Save him from the curse of spurning a father's love! Is this my punishment for the sore blunder I made in keeping a rash vow?" And he moved on with the step of a broken man.