If ever a man loved truly and nobly Jack loved Una. He would have died the death to spare her a moment's pain; and here was this man threatening to darken and curse her whole life if he, Jack, did not relinquish her. "Are you human?" he said, turning his eyes upon Gideon Rolfe with a wild, hunted gaze. Gideon Rolfe smiled bitterly. "I am human enough to prevent this marriage." Jack rose and confronted him. "I will not give her up," he said hoarsely. "I defy you!" "Good!" said Gideon Rolfe. "Then I go to the girl and acquaint her with the true story of her birth. If I know her--and I do--she has sufficient pride to prevent her staining so honorable a family as the Davenants by marrying into it," and he sneered bitterly. Jack's face flushed. "You professed to love her," he said. "Are you totally indifferent to her happiness?" "No happiness could follow her union to one of your race," said Gideon Rolfe. Stephen trembled. He was playing a dangerous and desperate game. A word from Rolfe might put Jack in possession of Una's real parentage, and Stephen would be ruined. "My dear Jack," he said, sorrowfully, "I have besought Mr. Rolfe, almost on my knees, to hold his hand, but he is like stone--immovable." There was a pause. Jack stood, his brain in a whirl, his heart beating wildly. His frenzied brain saw the whole thing clearly. On one side stood his passionate love and his life-long happiness, on the other Una's shame and agony. "I love her so!" he moaned. "You say that you love her," said Gideon Rolfe, sternly. "Prove it by saving her from the knowledge of the shame which clings to her name. If your love is worth anything it will make that sacrifice. Remember, it is on your side only. She is young--a mere girl, a few weeks, months at most, and she will have learned to forget you." "That's a lie, at least," groaned Jack. "I know her better than you." "No matter," said Gideon Rolfe, coldly. "Time will heal a disappointed love; no time can heal an undying shame." Jack rose and paced the room. "Leave me alone for a few minutes," he said hoarsely. "I must think this out; nothing you can say can influence me." At a signal from Stephen, Gideon Rolfe remained silent. Five minutes passed and then Jack came to the light. The handsome face was haggard and white and so changed that ten years might have passed over his head in those few minutes. "Mr. Rolfe," he said, and his voice was broken and hollow, "why you bear me such deadly enmity I cannot imagine, and you will not tell me?" Gideon Rolfe made a gesture of assent. "It is a mystery to me; I only know its results. Once more I ask you to relent, and spare the unhappiness of both of us." "I am resolved," said Gideon. "Either relinquish her or I tell her all. The decision is in your hands. I do not doubt you will seize your happiness, even at the cost of her shame." "Then you wrong me," said Jack. "Rather than she should know the shadow which hangs on her life I relinquish her."