He had gone too far down the steep path which leads no man knows whither, to care much for anything that he was leaving behind. He had not read his brother's letter announcing his coming. It lay with a pile of others for some one hereafter to sort or burn. Mr. Tempest had done with letters, had done with everything except Death. The pressure of Death's hand was heavy on him, upon his eyes, upon his heart. He had been a punctual man all his life. He hoped he should not be kept waiting long. * * * * * Colonel Tempest followed the servant with inward trepidation across the white stone hall. He had been at once admitted, for it was known that Mr. Tempest was dying, and the only wonder in the minds of nurse and doctor and servants was that his only brother had not arrived before. The servant led the way along the picture-gallery. A child was playing at the further end of it under the Velasquez; or, to speak more correctly, was looking earnestly out of one of the low mullioned windows. The voice of the young year was calling him from without, as the spring calls only the young. But he might not go out to-day, though there were nests waiting for him, and holiday glories in wood and meadow that his soul longed after. He had been told he must stay in, in case that stern silent father who was dying should ask for him. John did not think he would want him, for when had he ever wanted him yet? but he remained at his post at the window, breathing his silent longing into a little mist on the pane. He looked round as Colonel Tempest and Archie approached, and then came gravely forward, and put out a strong little brown hand. Colonel Tempest just touched it without speaking, and turned his eyes away. He could not trust himself to look again at the erect dignified little figure with its square dark face. When had there ever been a dark Tempest? The two boys, near of an age, looked each other straight in the eyes. Archie was the younger and the taller of the two. "Are you John?" he asked at once. "Yes." "John what?" "No. John Amyas Tempest." "Archie," said Colonel Tempest, who had grown rather pale, "you can stay here with----, until I send for you." And with one backward glance at them, he followed the servant to an ante-room, where the doctor presently came to him. "I am his only brother," said Colonel Tempest hoarsely. "Can I see him?" "Certainly, my dear sir, certainly; but at the same time all agitation, all tendency to excitement, must be rigorously avoided." "Is he really dying?" interrupted Colonel Tempest. "He is." "How long has he?" Colonel Tempest felt as if a hand were tightening round his throat. The doctor shrugged his shoulders. "Three hours. Five hours. He might live through the night. I cannot say."