one of the towns, or even, as you have an income of your own, go home to
England, if that is your will."

"Is it your will?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No; all my life is here. Also, I have something to
find before I die--for your sake, dear."

"Do you mean up among those ruins?" she asked, looking at him curiously.

"Yes. So you know about it?" he answered, with a flash of his blue eyes.
"Oh! of course, Seymour told you. Yes, I mean among the ruins--but I
will tell you that story another time--not here, not here. What do you
wish to do, Benita? Remember, I am in your hands; I will obey you in all
things."

"Not to stop in a town and not to go to England," she replied, while he
hung eagerly upon her words, "for this has become my holy land. Father,
I will go with you to your farm; there I can be quiet, you and I
together."

"Yes," he answered rather uneasily; "but, you see, Benita, we shall not
be quite alone there. My partner, Jacob Meyer, lives with me."

"Jacob Meyer? Ah! I remember," and she winced. "He is a German, is he
not--and odd?"

"German Jew, I imagine, and very odd. Should have made his fortune a
dozen times over, and yet has never done anything. Too unpractical, too
visionary, with all his brains and scheming. Not a good man, Benita,