"I intercept the course of my narrative at this point by mentioning something which should have been mentioned earlier. Baldwin was the name by which Avicia's father was known. I have told you he was an avaricious man. He was something more than this--he was a designing man, and he played one brother against the other. They grew, as I have said, into the habit of taking presents with them when they visited the lighthouse, presents of wine and food and flowers. The wine and food were acceptable to Avicia's father, the flowers he despised. "'But,' said Kristel to him, 'the flowers are for Avicia.' "'Exactly,' said Baldwin, 'but were I a young man, and rich, and made presents to a young girl, they should not always be flowers which fade in a day, and are flung into the sea. I should think of things more substantial, things that would last and would always retain their value.' "Upon this hint they were not slow to act. They sent letters to distant towns; they made secret visits to places not so far away as to necessitate their absence for not longer than twenty-four hours, and armed with ornaments and jewels they made their appearance at the lighthouse, and presented them to Avicia. She wore none of them; her father took possession of them, with the remark, 'It would be unbecoming for a single girl to display these gewgaws upon her neck and arms. By and by, when she is a married woman, then will be the time, if other things are in keeping. Meanwhile, I am a safe custodian--and mark you,' he added, with an emphasis which caused me to regard him with abhorrence (for I was present when he said it), 'my daughter has been taught to obey me. My will is her law.' "They saw not the meaning of the cunning words; I, cooler and more collected, with no blinding, passionate thrills in my pulses, was gifted with a keener insight. I made one slight, impotent attempt to open their eyes, but the manner in which I was met warned me not to repeat it if I wished to be of service to them, and to avert a calamity. He was Avicia's father, and, as such, incapable in their judgment of a mean or sordid act.