"I dare say," resumed English, his old air of serenity coming back to him, "you wonder why I did not extend that botched business as far as the jugular this time, and have done with it. But, you see, there was just a chance, I told myself; and so," he repeated, falling back into his significant formula, "I waited. I got work with an old babu; and by-and-by my opportunity came, and I took it." "Good Lord!" exclaimed Bethune, shifting restlessly in his chair. "It was the maddest business!" "Perhaps," said English, a shade of pain sweeping across his face. "But I had to know. Any other course was too dangerous. Oh, I am not speaking of myself—think how dangerous!" "But, man—man," cried the other, "it need not have taken you all that time! When you’d seen with your own eyes, when you had found that the old fellow was killing her, when you were here in this house, and had seen her in her sorrow—then——" English flung one lightning glance upon the speaker. "And even then," he said slowly, "I had still to know—more." A moment Bethune stared at him open-mouthed; then his own unclear conscience pointed the otherwise inconceivable idea to his slow-working wits. He felt the dark blood mount to his forehead. "Now I’ve told you all," said Harry English, and got up from his chair. "Thank you," said Bethune. * * * * * Aspasia’s bright presence was suddenly with them. English wheeled round; but her smiling face was reassurance sufficient. "I’ve come as I promised," she said, "to give you the last report. Dr. Châtelard says all is going as he wishes. He will be down immediately for some breakfast, and then he will tell you himself. Isn’t he a darling little man?" she went on. "I am sorry I said he had a pink head! What should we do now without it? By the way, some one must send a wire to Melbury Towers for his luggage." "Let me go," said Bethune, starting forward. "Let him go," echoed Baby, saucily, turning to Captain English. With such new happiness before her, the natural buoyancy of her nature was triumphant over all present doubt and anxiety. Bethune put out his hand, and she slipped her own confidingly into it. "Harry," said he, and the girl wondered and was highly flattered at the sudden emotion that shook his voice, "you see how things stand between us?" Again English flashed that glance of vivid scrutiny. This time his friend met it steadily, though again with a heightening colour. Then, after a perceptible pause: "I am glad," said Captain English, simply. And Bethune dropped the girl’s hand to meet the strong clasp held out to him. He knew that from henceforth all misunderstanding was swept away from between them. If he had felt before for his friend that love closer than a brother’s, it was cemented now by the strongest bond that can exist between generous natures—that of forgiver and forgiven. He was forgiven with the only real forgiveness—that which understands.