“I was afraid you could not come,” she confessed, as she gave him her hand and looked into his eyes. “And I have so much to thank you for!” “Don’t thank me, Inza! You know I would do anything for you—anything in my power!” “Would you?” “Haven’t I proved it many times?” “Yes, yes! And last night you were the one my mind turned to when I felt sure Walter was in trouble and danger. He says he owes his life to you. You must let him thank you. He is with father now.” “It seems so strange that you have a brother. I can hardly realize it.” “Hush! It is not known here that he is my brother. He is supposed to be my cousin. You know it is dangerous for him to be in this country. He might be arrested.” “I’ll take care not to let the cat out of the bag. I had thought him dead so long that I never dreamed he could be a bearded man like that. I remember him only as a slight, dark-eyed stripling at Fardale.” Fardale! The mention of that magic word seemed to give them both a thrill, bringing to them a rush of delightful memories. Her cheeks flushed and her bosom heaved, while a soft sigh escaped her lips. How beautiful she was! Frank had ever regarded her as the handsomest girl he knew, but at this moment, with the remembrance of those old, sweet days stirring within her heart she seemed far more lovely than ever before. He was seized by a sudden desire to clasp her to his heart at that moment and declare the passion which had been reawakened within his soul; but he realized that such a sudden action might baffle his purpose, and with a mighty effort he held himself in restraint. “I have been thinking of those days in Fardale,” she said softly. “Have you?” “Yes.” “So have I.” She lifted her eyes, and the look she saw in his face surprised her not a little. It was the old, old look of admiration—more than admiration! The moonlight had revealed to her that look the night he kissed her over the gate in front of her home in Fardale. Then he might not have held himself in check, but she fell back a bit before him, and he fancied her movement was one of repulsion. Something told him that it would be a terrible blow if she were to repulse him now. And it was possible she still cared for Starbright—or thought she cared. “Go slow, Frank Merriwell!” something seemed to whisper in his ear. “You have given this girl every reason to think you cared more for another, now be careful not to make a break that may cause her to doubt your sincerity.” And so, by his own good sense, he was restrained. “Why should you be thinking of Fardale?” she asked, her girlish curiosity aroused. “Why—why, I don’t know, exactly. Something—some talk brought it to my mind.” She was surprised to note that he, usually so direct and straightforward, seemed rather confused and faltered somewhat. “Those were happy days,” she murmured softly. “In truth, they were!” he exclaimed. “We did not dream how happy at the time.”