if he loves me, surely he will prove kind."

He flung himself back with an exclamation of angry pain. He was white
to the lips, his eyes bloodshot. "It must not be - it shall not be -
I'll not endure it!" he cried hoarsely.

"Richard, dear.. ." she began, recapturing the hand he had snatched
from hers in his gust of emotion.

He rose abruptly, interrupting her. "I'll go to Wilding now," he
cried, his voice resolute. "He shall cancel this bargain he had no
right to make. He shall take up his quarrel with me where it stood
before you went to him."

"No, no, Richard, you must not!" she urged him, frightened, rising too,
and clinging to his arm.

"I will," he answered. "At the worst he can but kill me. But at least
you shall not be sacrificed."

"Sit here, Richard," she bade him. "There is something you have not
considered. If you die, if Mr. Wilding kills you.. ." she paused.

He looked at her, and at the repetition of the fate that would probably
await him if he persevered in the course he threatened, his purely
emotional courage again began to fail him. A look of fear crept
gradually into his face to take the room of the resolution that had
been stamped upon it but a moment since.

He swallowed hard. "What then?" he asked, his voice harsh, and,