Side by side they mounted, till half-way up Crowther checked their progress. "Piers," he said, "I'm grateful to you for enduring my interference in this matter." "Pshaw!" said Piers, "I owe you that much anyhow." "You owe me nothing," said Crowther emphatically. "What I did for you, I did for myself. I've rather a weakness--it's a very ordinary one too--for trying to manage other people's concerns. And there's something so fine about you that I can't bear to stand aside and see you mess up your own. So, sonny,--for my satisfaction,--will you promise me not to take a wrong turning over this?" He spoke very earnestly, with a pleading that could not give offence. Piers' face softened almost in spite of him. "You're an awfully good chap," he said. "Promise me, lad!" pleaded Crowther, still holding his arm in a friendly grasp; then as Piers hesitated: "You know, I'm an older man than you are. I can see further. You'll be making your own hell if you don't." "But why should I promise?" said Piers uneasily. "Because I know you will keep a promise--even against your own judgment." Simply, with absolute conviction, Crowther made reply. "I shan't feel happy about you--unless you promise." Piers smiled a little, but the lines about his mouth were grim. "Oh, all right," he said, after a moment, "I promise;--for I think you are right, Crowther. I think too that I should probably have to tell her--whether I wanted to or not. She's that sort--the sort that none but a skunk could deceive. But--" his voice altered suddenly; he turned brooding eyes upon the sleeping sea--"I wonder if she will forgive me," he said. "I--wonder." "Does she love you?" said Crowther. Piers' eyes flashed round at him. "I can make her love me," he said. "You are sure?" "I am sure." "Then, my son, she'll forgive you. And if you want to play a straight game, tell her soon!" said Crowther. And Piers, with all the light gone out of his eyes, answered soberly, "I will." CHAPTER XXV DROSS In the morning they hired horses and went towards the mountains. The day was cloudless, but Sir Beverley would not be persuaded to accompany them. "I'm not in the mood for exertion," he said to Piers. "Besides, I detest hired animals, always did. I shall spend an intellectual morning listening to the band." "Hope you won't be bored, sir," said Piers. "Your going or coming wouldn't affect that one way or another," responded Sir Beverley. Whereat Piers laughed and went his way. He was curiously light-hearted again that morning. The soft Southern air with its many perfumes exhilarated him like wine. The scent of the orange-groves rose as incense to the sun. The animal he rode danced a skittish side-step from time to time. It was impossible to go with sober mien. "It's a good land," said Crowther. "Flowing with milk and honey," laughed Piers, with his eyes on the olive-clothed slopes. "But there's no country like one's own, what?" "No country like England, you mean," said Crowther.