“This: That poor Royall Sherwood is doomed to such a fate that even I, whom he has supplanted in Daisie’s heart; even I, whom he has robbed of the dearest treasure on earth, can afford to pity him. He will be a hopeless cripple for life. The shot in his back affected the spinal column, so that from his waist down he is hopelessly paralyzed--a lifelong wreck.” “My God! And this was my fiendish work!” The man’s face sank on the window sill, his strong frame shook with remorseful sobs that did not shame his young manhood. Dallas did not know how to offer any comfort in the face of this remorse. The whole affair was, to him, very terrible. He pitied Royall Sherwood with the greatness of a noble nature, forgiving all his own wrongs because of the other’s affliction. For it seemed to him that the young man’s affliction was more cruel than death. To have all the best gifts of life at command--youth, health, wealth, love--and to be struck down like this at one fell blow into worse than nothingness, to be looking into heaven, yet always lying outside the beautiful gates. Ah, what refinement of cruelty, what living torture! Of her--his lost love, his bonny Daisie--lured from him by a hideous cheat, kept away by her pity and her sense of duty, a pitiful sacrifice to a cruel plot, he scarce dared think. That way lay madness. So he did not know how to offer comfort to the broken man before him, crushed by remorse for his hideous sin. “What must I do to atone?” groaned Ray. “Shall I go to him, confess my crime, and offer him my service through life, to make up for his loss?” “My poor fellow, I do not think you can make it up to him. It is too great, and he will not need you. He is so rich he will not lack loving service. No, your part is to bear your cross in patience and to lead such a life hereafter that the blackness of past sins shall be blotted out in refulgent light.” “I swear I will--God helping me! And you believe in me?” “Yes, and will try to help you to lead a new life. I am going to cross the sea next week. Will you come with me as my guest? I did not tell you I was English-born before--did I--though I have spent much time in America, for my mother is a native of this land. Well, come with me, and we will seek new scenes a while, to dull the pain in both our hearts. You will? That’s a good fellow! Your hand on it, Ray; we are true friends till death!” CHAPTER XXVI. EXPIATION. The scene shifts from the quiet country under the low-hung October skies to New York, in the following March, when the crisp snow covered the ground, sparkling like jewels under the pallid electric lights. “WANTED--A refined, educated, companionable gentleman as a companion for an invalid. Liberal salary to a suitable person. Apply at No. -- Fifth Avenue.”