"He is a true-hearted lad, Mr Bayle, and I love him dearly," said Mrs Otway. "Only that he is fighting hard between love and duty he would have been carrying on the campaign by now; but you must allow Fort Robert Hallam is a terrible one to storm and garrison afterwards, for it has to be retained for life." "I understand your meaning," said Bayle, speaking very slowly. "It is a terrible position for Mr Eaton to be in." "Should you oppose it?" "I have no authority whatever," said Bayle in the same low, dreamy tone. "If I had, I should never dream of opposing anything that was for Miss Hallam's good." "And it would be, to get her away from such associations, Mr Bayle." "Lady Eaton! Lady Eaton!" said the Captain in warning. "Hush, Jack! pray." "Yes," said Bayle; "it would be for Miss Hallam's benefit; but it would nearly break her mother's heart." "She would have to make a sacrifice for the sake of the child." "Yes," said Bayle softly. "Another sacrifice;" and then softly to himself, "how long? how long?" He rose, and was gravely bidding his friends good-bye, when a sharp, quick step was heard, and Eaton came in, coloured like a girl on seeing Bayle, hesitated, and then held out his hand. Bayle shook it warmly and left the verandah, Eaton walking with him to the gate. "Jack," said Mrs Otway softly, "it's my belief that the parson loves Julia Hallam himself." "You think so?" "I'm sure of it." "And will he marry her?" "No. I'm about sure that she is desperately fond of our boy, and the parson is too true a man to stand in the way." "Nonsense!" said the Captain. "Such men are not made now." "But they were when Christie Bayle was born," she said, nodding her head quickly. "Yes," she said, after a pause, as they heard Eaton's returning steps; "it's a knot, Jack." "Humph!" he replied. "For time to untie." VOLUME FOUR, CHAPTER FOUR. STEPHEN CRELLOCK IS COMMUNICATIVE. "No hurry, Steve, my lad," said Hallam, as he turned over the newspaper that had come in by the last mail, and threw one of his booted legs upon a chair. Crellock was leaning against the chimney-piece of the room Hallam called his study; but one, which in place of books was filled with fishing and shooting gear, saddles, bridles, and hunting whips, from that usually adopted for riding, to the heavy implement so terrible in a stockman's hands. The man had completely lost all his old prison look; and the obedient, servile manner that distinguished him, when, years before, he had been Hallam's willing tool in iniquity, had gone. He had developed into a sturdy, independent, restless being, with whom it would be dangerous to trifle, and Robert Hallam had felt for some time that he really was master no longer.