Had this been their first meeting he must have shrunk from Dering in horror and repulsion. But weeks of intimate companionship had shown him the real worth of the young man’s nature, marred only by the jealous passion that had driven him to crime. He knew that he was capable of noble things, understood also that he was the victim of an undying remorse. His revenge had recoiled upon himself, and the serpents of remorse were coiled in his heart to sting him to death. All this rushed over the mind of Dallas as he gazed at the pale, handsome face and the somber, dark eyes, where the fires of remorse and regret smoldered under the heavy lashes. “You despise me!” exclaimed Ray Dering hoarsely. “Who can blame you? I, for one, do not. I am even glad I told you, for it made me restless, your kindness, when I knew I did not deserve it. I have sinned so deeply against you that your goodness has heaped coals of fire upon my head. I can only give you my miserable secrets, suspected by no one on earth before, except Annette, and thank you before we part.” He scarcely expected anything but reproof and desertion, and cowered before the thought, for he had grown to love Dallas Bain, and coveted his good opinion; but the manliness within him would not permit him to claim it unworthily, so he bowed his head and waited sadly enough for the end. But into the mind of Dallas surged a great wave of pity. Impulsively he held out his hand. “I forgive you, my friend,” he said cordially. “You call me your friend--you offer me your hand, Dallas Bain--after what I have told you! Good heavens! I did not dream there was any man so noble!” cried Ray Dering, choking with emotion as he received the offered handclasp, adding: “I swear to you that this shall make a new man of me. I will deserve this confidence by some great deed that will condone the hateful past.” Dallas Bain answered quietly: “Your first step must be to control your jealous, fiery temper. He that is ruler over his own spirit is greater than a king.” “Ah, Dallas, I am cured of all that madness, believe me. My spirit is crushed within me, and my remorse for the evil I have wrought is almost greater than I can bear. Think of my poor little love, Annette, unjustly accused and wounded, perhaps hating me in her heart, for which, indeed, I could not blame her, but must agree that she is right. Then, too, that poor fellow wounded unto death by my hand. Yet he never did me any harm. What if he dies? I shall be a wretched murderer!” “He will not die,” answered Dallas Bain. “Not die! Thank the good God who has spared me that remorse! Then you have heard from Gull Beach?” “Not directly, but through the newspapers. Of course, a man as rich as Royall Sherwood must get due attention from the press.” “And I thank God again that he is going to get well.” “Not well, Ray.” “But you said so only a minute ago, didn’t you?” anxiously. “I said he would not die.” “But what did you mean, then?”