She came silently across the threshold and put her arms around his neck; and the man lost every atom of his color. "What did he say?" he repeated harshly. "That he loves me." "What!" "It is true, father." The man held her at arm's length roughly. "Good God!" he groaned, "how long has this been going on?" "Only to-night. What do you mean, father?" [Illustration: "'He tells you that he--he is in love with you?'"] "He tells you that he--he is in love with you? With _you_?" repeated Herold unsteadily. "Yes. It is true, too." "You mean he asked you to marry him!" "Yes. And I said I would." "_You_ love _him_!" The man's pallor frightened her silent. Then he dropped her arms, which he had been clutching, and stood staring at nothing, gnawing at his colorless lips. The girl watched him with dawning terror and finally ventured to speak. "Dear, what is the matter? Are you displeased with me? Do you think that he is not a man I should care for? You don't know him, dear. You have only to see him, to speak with him, hear his voice, look into his eyes----" "Good God!" groaned Herold, closing his sunken eyes. Then, almost feeling his way out and along the dark passageway, he descended the stairs, heavily. Marche, cleaning his gun in the sitting-room, looked up in surprise, then rose, laying aside stock, fore-end, and barrel, as Herold came into the room. The next instant, stepping nearer, he stared into Herold's face in silence. And so they met and confronted each other after many years. "Are _you_ Herold?" said the young man, in a low voice. "That is my name--now." "_You_ have been in my employment--for five years?" "Yes. Judge Gilkins gave me the chance. I could not suppose that the club would ever become your property." The younger man's face hardened. "But when it did become my property, why had you the indecency to stay?" "Where else could I go?" "You had the whole world to--operate in." Herold's thin face flushed. "It was fitter that I should work for you," he said. "I have served you faithfully for five years." "And unfaithfully for ten! Wasn't it enough that Vyse and I let you go without prosecuting you? Wasn't it enough that we pocketed our loss for your wife's sake?" He checked himself in a flash of memory, turned, and looked at the picture on the wall. Now he knew, now he understood why his former associate's handwriting had seemed familiar after all these years. And suddenly he remembered that this man was Jim's father--and the father of the young girl he was in love with; and the shock drove every drop of blood out of his heart and cheeks. Ghastly, staring, he stood confronting Herold; and the latter, leaning heavily, shoulder against the wall, stared back at him.