Macloud held up his hand, in mock despair. "Let us make a third start--drop the attempt to be clever and talk sense. I think I can do it, if I try." "Willingly!" she responded. As they came out on the side walk, Croyden was going down the street. He crossed over and met them. "I've not forgot your admonition, so don't be uneasy," he observed to Macloud. "I'm going to town now, I'll be back in about half an hour--is that too soon?" "It's quite soon enough!" was the answer. Miss Carrington looked at Macloud, quizzically, but made no comment. "Shall we take the regulation walk?" she asked. "The what?" "The regulation walk--to the Cemetery and back." "I'm glad we're coming back?" he laughed. "It's the favorite walk, here," she explained--"the most picturesque and the smoothest." "To say nothing of accustoming the people to their future home," Macloud remarked. "You're not used to the ways of small towns--the Cemetery is a resort, a place to spend a while, a place to visit." "Does it make death any easier to hob-nob with it?" he asked. "I shouldn't think so," she replied. "However, I can see how it would induce morbidity, though there are those who are happiest only when they're miserable." "Such people ought to live in a morgue," agreed Macloud. "However we're safe enough--we can go to the Cemetery with impunity." "There are some rather queer old headstones, out there," she said. "Remorse and the inevitable pay-up for earthly transgression seem to be the leading subjects. There is one in the Duval lot--the Duvals from whom Mr. Croyden got Clarendon, you know--and I never have been able to understand just what it means. It is erected to the memory of one Robert Parmenter, and has cut in the slab the legend: 'He feared nor man, nor god, nor devil,' and below it, a man on his knees making supplication to one standing over him. If he feared nor man, nor god, nor devil, why should he be imploring mercy from any one?" "Do you know who Parmenter was?" said Macloud. "No--but I presume a connection of the family, from having been buried with them." "You read his letter only last evening--his letter to Marmaduke Duval." "His letter to Marmaduke Duval!" she repeated. "I didn't read any----" "Robert Parmenter is the pirate who buried the treasure on Greenberry Point," he interrupted. Then, suddenly, a light broke in on her. "I see!--I didn't look at the name signed to the letter. And the cutting on the tombstone----?" "Is a victim begging mercy from him," said Macloud. "I like that Marmaduke Duval--there's something fine in a man, in those times, bringing the old buccaneer over from Annapolis and burying him beside the place where he, himself, some day would rest.--That is friendship!" "And that is like the Duvals!" said she. "It was a sad day in Hampton when the Colonel died."