But Mr. Caryll's soul fell once more into travail. "Wait!" he
cried. "Ah, wait!" His level glance met Sir Richard's in
earnestness and entreaty. "Answer me the truth upon your soul
and conscience: Do you in your heart believe that it is what
my mother would have had me do?"

There was an instant's pause. Then Everard, the fanatic of
vengeance, the man whose mind upon that one subject was become
unsound with excess of brooding, answered with conviction: "As
I have a soul to be saved, Justin, I do believe it. More - I
know it. Here!" Trembling hands took up the old letter from
the table and proffered it to Justin. "Here is her own
message to you. Read it again."

And what time the young man's eyes rested upon that fine,
pointed writing, Sir Richard recited aloud the words he knew
by heart, the words that had been ringing in his ears since
that day when he had seen her lowered to rest: "`Never let him
learn that Justin exists unless it be to punish him by the
knowledge for his cruel desertion of me.' It is your mother's
voice speaking to you from the grave," the fanatic pursued,
and so infected Justin at last with something of his
fanaticism.

The green eyes flashed uncannily, the white young face grew
cruelly sardonic. "You believe it?" he asked, and the
eagerness that now invested his voice showed how it really was
with him.

"As I have a soul to be saved," Sir Richard repeated.