“Wait,” he said at length, “I cannot let you go like that, Sir Matthew.” His perplexity and distress were so genuine that for the first time in all their intercourse the Company Promoter felt a sort of liking for this boy whom he had wronged and patronised, snubbed and educated, scolded and secretly hated. He saw that Ralph had all his father’s gentleness and generosity, but a good deal more strength and warmth of temperament than the Rector had ever possessed. In dire suspense he waited to know his fate. There was a silence of some minutes; then Ralph, who had moved across to the fireplace and had wrestled out his problem with arms propped on the mantelpiece and face hidden, lifted up his head and once more met the gaze of his father’s old friend. Sir Matthew was astonished to see that he looked pale and haggard with the struggle he had passed through. “I will try to help you,” he said simply. “Then,” said Sir Matthew with warmth, “I am justified in having come to you. You are--as I thought--your father’s son. You are a true Denmead.” Ralph for the life of him could not help laughing at the words. “You told me that in a different tone at Rilchester,” he remarked. “The Denmeads, I think you were good enough to say, were always unpractical fools, aiming at impossible ideals. I was angry then, but after all perhaps you are right. I believe I am a fool to help you, but just because you have so wronged us in the past I am afraid to refuse lest there should be anything of private spite or revenge in the refusal. What class do you wish to travel? I will go at once for your ticket.” “Take a second return to Havre, it may be a precaution,” said Sir Matthew. “The steamer does not leave I think till 11.45. I did not come down by the boat train for that might very probably have been watched. How about disguise?” “I will go to the theatre on my way back to you,” said Ralph, “and bring a grey beard which I think is all that will be needed.” He hurried off, for there was not very much time to spare. Now that his decision was made he was comparatively at rest, and as he sped along the dark streets his thoughts went back to Whinhaven and all the quiet familiar scenes he had just visited. It was strange that Sir Matthew should have encountered him just as he returned from his old home, and perhaps, if the truth were known, the Company Promoter might never have gained his help had it not been for the softening influence of that visit to the old Rectory and the “goodly heritage.” Having secured the ticket, he made his way to the theatre, where, early though it was, Macneillie had already arrived and was discussing some knotty question with the assistant stage manager and the master carpenter. Ralph slipped by them and ran up to his dressing-room, unearthed the beard he wanted from his dress-basket, tucked his make-up box under his arm and hastened away. “Where are you off to?” said Macneillie. “Back again in ten minutes, Governor,” he replied.