choose Fontenoy!" He looked at Cary with a certain appeal. "I shall, of
course, remove myself as soon as possible. In the meantime, if you could
assure me that Colonel Churchill and his family understand--"

"Set your mind at rest," said Cary at once. "Colonel Churchill is the
soul of kindness and hospitality, and the ladies of Fontenoy are all
angels. You must not think yourself an unwelcome guest." He glanced
again at the papers. "I am sure you should not try to write. Will you
not accept me as amanuensis? The matter is not private?"

Not at all: but--"

"Then let me write from your dictation. I have nothing at all to do for
the next two hours,--I am staying in the house, you know,--and it will
give me genuine pleasure to help you. You have no business with such
labour. Dr. Gilmer, I know, must have forbidden it. Come! I write a very
fair clerkly hand."

"You don't know the imposition," said Rand, with an answering smile. "It
is nothing less than a Treatise on Murder."

"I shall be glad," replied Cary, "to hear what you have to say on the
subject. Come! here are blank sheets and a new quill and an attentive
secretary!"

Rand smiled. "It's the strangest post for you!--but all life's a dream
just now. I confess that writing is uphill work! Well--since you are so
good."

He began to dictate. At first his words came slowly, with some stiffness