the temptation of the world. Therefore, as my clerk I retain him; as
my son's companion--never!"

We felt that "never" was irrevocable.

Yet I tried, blindly and despairingly, to wrestle with it; I might as
well have flung myself against a stone wall.

John stood perfectly silent.

"Don't, Phineas," he whispered at last; "never mind me. Your father
is right--at least so far as he sees. Let me go--perhaps I may come
back to you some time. If not--"

I moaned out bitter words--I hardly knew what I was saying. My
father took no notice of them, only went to the door and called Jael.

Then, before the woman came, I had strength enough to bid John go.

"Good-bye--don't forget me, don't!"

"I will not," he said; "and if I live we shall be friends again.
Good-bye, Phineas." He was gone.

After that day, though he kept his word, and remained in the
tan-yard, and though from time to time I heard of him--always
accidentally,--after that day for two long years I never once saw the
face of John Halifax.