"You cannot go back on your oath, Malherb. If you did, you wouldn't be Malherb." "We are fighting against nature." "We are fighting against Cecil Stark, not nature at all. "'Man's life is but a cheating game At cards, and Fortune plays the same, Packing a queen up with a knave----' as Bancroft so appositely remarks. But the knave of hearts is hard and fast in a Prince Town cachot and like to stop there; and the knave of clubs--so to call that meddling rascal, John Lee--has stood his trial at Plymouth. They are done with; and King Peter shall come to his own queen again. I'm patient as a spider and sure as time. I'm going to marry Grace Malherb, though the heavens fall. I never change; but you? Am I more steadfast than the man who taught me steadfastness? "'An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven: Shall I lay perjury upon my soul?' Ask yourself that question." "Let it rest awhile. I have much else on my mind--far greater things even than this marriage. There are heavy secrets--heavy secrets." "Who has not got 'em? God knows how well I wish you. But to behold you weak! 'Tis like believing that you see granite, only to find it painted paper." The other man's mind was running on. "I want no son of the next generation to be my glory and my hope. I want no son, nor daughter neither. I weary of the future; I turn from it; I have no longer any wish that my name should outlive me." "Why then, the case is clear: you're ill! How blind one can be! Somehow I'd never associated your iron constitution with physical griefs. Yet you, too, can be sick. Your vitality is lowered; I see it in your face. At such times there is danger of cancers, declines and murrains. They fix their dreadful fangs in us when we are enervated and weak. Man! trust me more. I'm no wind-bag. I can do things. I have many very definite deeds to my credit. Often I came to you for advice; now take from me what's better; coin of the realm. Forgive bluntness and accept blunt. This has nought to do with Grace at all. 'I will not purchase hope with ready money.' There's no room for false pride between us, thank God! I say you shall! I hate to see you troubled over the trashy aspect of human life. To be cornered for a little metal! Consider: "'Friendship! mysterious cement of the soul, Sweet'ner of life! and solder of society!' Blair. But what is friendship if we do not permit it to take shape or substance?" The older man was touched instantly and deeply. He bent from his saddle and shook Peter's hand.