temptation.

Twenty years ago, when Ghysbrecht Van Swieten was a hard and honest man,
the touchstone opportunity came to him, and he did an act of heartless
roguery. It seemed a safe one. It had hitherto proved a safe one, though
he had never felt safe. To-day he had seen youth, enterprise, and, above
all, knowledge, seated by fair Margaret and her father on terms that
look familiar and loving.

And the fiends are at big ear again.



CHAPTER II

"The soup is hot," said Gerard.

"But how are we to get it to our mouths?" inquired the senior,
despondingly.

"Father, the young man has brought us straws." And Margaret smiled
slily.

"Ay, ay!" said the old man; "but my poor bones are stiff, and indeed the
fire is too hot for a body to kneel over with these short straws. St.
John the Baptist, but the young man is adroit!"

For, while he stated his difficulty, Gerard removed it. He untied in a
moment the knot on his breast, took his hat off, put a stone into each
corner of it, then, wrapping his hand in the tail of his jerkin, whipped