I dropped in to Jake's shack, for I had not seen him all the sleepy day. I found him sitting in perfect content, buried up over the eyes in a current issue of _The Northern Lights_,--a Dawson newspaper, which had been in existence since the old Klondike days and was much relished by old-timers. The dog was curled up near the stove, sleeping off certain effects; Jake was at his second cup of whisky. I left them to the peace and sanctity of their Sabbath evening and rowed back to "Paradise Regained," as I had already christened my bungalow. I sat down on the steps of the veranda, to peruse the home paper which the minister had left with me, and it was not long before I was startled by a flaring headline. The blood rushed from my face to my heart and seemed as if it would burst that great, throbbing organ:-- "SUDDEN DEATH OF THE EARL OF BRAMMERTON AND HAZELMERE." My eyes scanned the notice. "News has been telegraphed that the Earl of Brammerton and Hazelmere died suddenly of heart failure at his country residence, Hazelmere. His demise has caused a profound sensation, as it occurred on the eve of a House Party, arranged in celebration of the engagement of his son, Viscount Harry Brammerton, Captain of the Coldstream Guards, to the beautiful Lady Rosemary Granton, daughter of the late General Frederick Granton, who was the companion and dearest friend of the late Earl of Brammerton in the early days of their campaigning in the Crimea and India." A long obituary notice followed, concluding with the following paragraph: "It is given out that the marriage of the present Earl with Lady Granton has been postponed and that, after the necessary business formalities have been attended to, Captain Harry will join his regiment in Egypt for a short term. "Lady Rosemary Granton has gone to New York, at the cabled invitation of some old family friends." "It is understood that the Hon. George Brammerton, second and only other son of the late Earl, is presently on a long walking tour in Europe. His whereabouts are unknown and he is still in ignorance of his father's death." The pain of that sudden announcement, so soon after I had left home and right on the eve of my new endeavours, no one shall ever know. My dear old father! Angry at my alleged eccentricities sometimes, but ever ready to forgive,--was gone: doubtless, passing away with a message of forgiveness to me on his lips. And,--after the pain of it, came the conflict. Had what I had done caused or in any way hastened my father's death? Admitting that Harry's fault was great and unforgiveable, would it not have been better had I allowed it to remain in obscurity, at least for a time? Was the keeping of the family name unsullied, was the untarnished honour of our ancient family motto, "Clean,--within and without," of greater importance than my father's life? Was it my duty to be an unintentional and silent partner to the keeping of vital intelligence from the fair Lady Rosemary?