Florian made no reply. His ideas of faith and truth and of true women were suddenly and cruelly shattered now! 'She has killed all that was good in me, and the mischief of the future will be at her door!' he exclaimed, in a low and husky voice. 'Oh, Florian, don't say that,' said Shafto, who actually did feel a little for him; and just then, when they were on the eve of separation, even his false and artful heart did feel a pang, with the sting of fear, at the career of falsehood to which he had committed himself; but his ambition, innate greed, selfishness, and pride urged him on that career steadily and without an idea of flinching. After Mr. Kippilaw's remarks concerning how the face of Florian interested him, and actually that he bore a likeness to the dead Major--to his own father, in fact--Shafto became more than desirous to be rid of him in any way. He thought with dread of the discovery and fate of 'the Claimant,' and of the fierce light thrown by the law on that gigantic imposture; but genuine compunction he had none! 'Well,' he muttered, as he drove away from the hotel with his portmanteau, 'I must keep up this game at all hazards now. I have stolen--not only Florian's name--but his place, so let him paddle his own canoe!' 'I'll write you from Craigengowan,' were his parting words--a promise which he never fulfilled. Shafto, who generally held their mutual purse now, might have offered to supply the well-nigh penniless lad with money, but he did not. He only longed to be rid of him--to hear of him no more. He had a dread of his presence, of his society, of his very existence, and now had but one hope, wish, and desire--that Florian Melfort should cross his path never again. And now that he had achieved a separation between him and Dulcie, he conceived that Florian would never again go near Revelstoke, of which he--Shafto--had for many reasons a nervous dread! Full of Dulcie and her apparently cruel desertion of him, which he considered due to calm consideration of his change of fortune--or rather total want of it--Florian felt numbly indifferent to the matter Shafto had in hand and all about himself. While very nearly moved to girlish tears at parting from one with whom he had lived since infancy--with whom he had shared the same sleeping-room, shared in the same sports and studies--with whom he had read the same books to some extent, and had ever viewed as a brother--Florian was rather surprised, even shocked, by the impatience of that kinsman, the only one he had in all the wide world, to part from him and begone, and to see he was calm and hard as flint or steel.