"You'll guess that I'm not here just now for rest and change, Malherb. There's a good deal to be said between us. But you seem indisposed to say it. Naturally I should like to know all about this wonderful rescue. Yet, since you are so taciturn, I'll leave that until it pleases you or Grace to tell the story. Suffice it that she's alive and well, and I hope wise at last. Now, how do we stand?" Malherb noted the difference of tone, but made no comment upon it. "She and I stand in the relation of father and daughter," he answered. "That is not new; and yet it is new. I have learned a good deal of late. My judgment is shaken within me." "'Where the judgment's weak, the prejudice is strong.' You talk as if you had been in fault, instead of your daughter." "You were not wont to speak so to me." "Nor you to act so. Life is short, and even my astounding patience has run out." "Listen," said Malherb, reining up his horse and lifting his hand. "Trouble has fallen upon me--terrible trouble. You shall know--everybody shall know; but not yet. It is in Job--set there in the awful words of Scripture: 'He discovereth deep things out of darkness, and bringeth out to light the shadow of death.' I have done evil, Norcot; I have fallen as I pray you may never fall. Invisible powers have rent me and torn me. I tell you that I have been through dark waters." "Bless my soul! all the deities in a rumpus over one man! Tut, tut! What then? If you've learned some wisdom--if you've found out that God is jealous and takes mighty good care none of us shall be wiser than He is--then there's hope for you." "I have learned much. This girl--my girl--she has suffered a great deal. Frankly, we have overlooked her rights." "What moonshine do you talk, my dear Malherb?" The other's eyes flashed--then dulled. His rage was but a shadow of its old self, and, like a shadow, vanished. He answered listlessly. "I am not what I was. I have heavy anxieties, and I will not fight with my child. My opinion is changed. She is a woman." "'Little force suffices to break what's cracked already.' You mean that she has prevailed with you to forswear yourself--to turn traitor to me. You a traitor! 'Tis a thing impossible!" "What is impossible? No depth of error is impossible to one who knows not himself. To upbraid me is vain. The solid earth has shifted under my feet, Peter Norcot. But 'traitor'--I'll not brook that. Worse than that I may be, but not that." "Not that, indeed! If you only knew how I respect you and approve your staunch, fearless outlook upon life! But I, too, have endured not a little. Think of it--the marriage broken off at the altar rails! And then fifteen hours in the saddle. Nocturnal adventures to fill a volume. Terrific expenditure--wear and tear to body and soul and clothes. "'And winged lovelings round my aching heart Still flutter, flutter--never to depart.'