Instantly a thousand voices pulverized the man's fatuous anxiety. Hard after, as the gallant slogan swept on to make assurance doubly sure, they gave back the name in a roar like the rush of waters.... But the man for whom all the voices strained themselves did not hear their doubt-destroying response, tumultuous though it was. Another voice, close beside him, had taken up that refrain, making all others inaudible, a shy, glad, whispering voice of chimes. "_He's all right_." The common words were glorified by that voice, made over into a sweet and solemn benediction. He sat very silent, humbled and awed by the revealed visage of his own great happiness. At last she found courage to venture a look at him; and she saw that over his pale and disfigured face there had come a kind of glory, the joy of sudden peace out of pain. Soon he spoke; and his words at first seemed to her very far afield, though there was that in his unsteadied voice which reassured her beyond speech. "Would you mind stopping at the hotel--only a minute? I--have an old enemy there, and I feel that I _must_ see him." "Oh, no, no!--must you? Oh, please--I can't let you go now! And I am afraid--afraid of what might happen--" She stopped on that, somehow gathering without looking at him that she had not followed his thought. "I want to take him by the hand," said Varney, "and tell him that it's all right now." There was a light carriage-robe about them, for the vanished sun had left the breath of autumn in the air; and beneath it her hand, from which the white glove had been stripped, touched and was suddenly gathered into his own. A glorious tremble shot through his body; and now he could turn his shining face fully toward her. "You aren't thinking that I could keep an enemy _to-day_!" As the carriage stopped before the hotel entrance, he added: "And I must tell him not to bother Peter any more. You see, Peter's a fine man, but he hasn't got my reasons for being--in love with all the world. I--I--I hate to go. Our first parting has come soon. But--this is a duty, and--and--good-bye!" She never forgot the look upon his face. "Good-bye. And oh! would you please _hurry_?" With an herculean effort he detached himself from the carriage and rushed into the hotel. The same bored-looking clerk was sitting behind the desk, paring the same nails with the same office scissors. But this time, at sight of Varney, he sprang instantly to his feet, all smiles and eagerness to serve. "Why, _good_ evening, Mr. Varney! Well, sir! You're lookin' better'n we expected, and I tell you Hunston's mighty glad to see you up and about again." Varney marveled how he had ever formed such a mean opinion of the clerk, whom he now saw to be a decidedly likable young man.