‘Mr. Mallory, I can never be amongst your enemies, never again. Let that be enough. I can say no more. You are wiser and more generous, too, than I am; but you can afford to be so. The reason I came to-night was to ask you if you still remembered an offer you made me a short time ago--the offer to give me a place away from Thanshope and _out of England_, you said?’ ‘I remember it perfectly well, and that I said I could still do it if you changed your mind about it. Well?’ ‘I have changed my mind about it If you can carry your generosity a little farther, and get me that place, or something like it--the farther away from here the better--I shall be--God knows, how grateful to you: I can never express it.’ ‘I can still do it,’ said Sebastian, looking attentively and kindly at the eager, haggard face of the other. ‘But I am sorry you think of leaving Thanshope.’ ‘I _must_ leave Thanshope. It is to get away from here that I ask. Will the work be hard? I hope so. I care for nothing but hard work--hard work,’ he repeated, in a sort of restless, prolonged sigh. ‘You will have what you wish for. The work is certainly pretty stiff. It is in Germany--in a rough, mining district near a large town. There is a cotton factory, and some collieries. They have a lot of English and Irish work-people there. The master and owner, Herr Süsmeyer, is a very intimate friend of mine. He wants a sort of superintendent--an Englishman, and one who is not afraid of work. He himself is as much an Englishman as a German. Still, you must know a little of the language. Did you not learn something of it from Miss Blisset?’ he added deliberately. ‘Yes,’ said Myles, curtly. ‘Ah, you will soon pick up more; you are quick, and you must study when work is over. That will give you as much occupation as even you could wish, I think. I shall give you a very high recommendation, indeed, as being personally known to me.’ ‘And as having been always polite, reasonable, and amiable with my superiors; not ready to take offence, and willing to own myself in the wrong!’ suggested Myles, with grim humour. Sebastian smiled, in silence, as he drew a paper-case and inkstand towards him, and wrote rapidly. He fastened up the letter, and addressed it to--HERRN GUSTAV SÜSMEYER, Eisendorf, Westphalien, Prussia, and handed it to Myles, saying, ‘I know the situation is still open, and that letter will secure it for you. I shall also write to Herr Süsmeyer to-night, so as to lose no time. From what you say, I suppose you will want to go soon?’ ‘As soon as ever I can--in a few days, when poor Ned is buried, and I can leave Mary.’ ‘You will leave your sister behind you?’ ‘For a good reason,’ said Myles. ‘She’s going to be married, and I know I leave her in good hands.’ ‘May I ask whom she will marry?’ ‘Harry Ashworth, a friend of ours. He has loved her long,’ said Myles, not even feeling surprised that he should be relating such things to Sebastian.