have taken. And so I will not do it--never--never--never!"

He picked up the cloak which the old man had dropped on the floor, and
handed it to him.

"There is no good in staying longer. I must go into court again
to-morrow. I have to think how my lawyer shall answer the evidence
given."

"But of one thing have you thought?" asked his father. "You will not
tell the cause of the quarrel, for the reason that you might hurt
somebody. If you don't tell the cause, and you are condemned, won't that
hurt somebody even more?"

For a moment Dyck stood silent, absorbed. His face looked pinched,
his whole appearance shrivelled. Then, with deliberation, he said:

"This is not a matter of expediency, but of principle. My heart tells
me what to do, and my heart has always been right."

There was silence for a long time. At last the old man drew the cloak
about his shoulders and turned towards the door.

"Wait a minute, father," said Dyck. "Don't go like that. You'd better
not come and see me again. If I'm condemned, go back to Playmore; if I'm
set free, go back to Playmore. That's the place for you to be. You've
got your own troubles there."

"And you--if you're acquitted?"