for those whom we poor mortals cannot serve."

On the envelope Alban had added these words: "But of course, before
showing the enclosed, you will prepare Darrell's mind to weigh its
contents." And probably it was in that curt and simple injunction that
the subtle man of the world evinced the astuteness of which not a trace
was apparent in the body of his letter.

Though Alban's communication had much excited his nephew, yet George had
not judged it discreet to avail himself of the permission to show it to
Darrell. It seemed to him that the pride of his host would take much
more offence at its transmission through the hands of a third person than
at the frank tone of its reasonings and suggestions. And George had
determined to re-enclose it to the Colonel, urging him to forward it
himself to Darrell just as it was, with but a brief line to say, "that,
on reflection, Alban submitted direct to his old school-fellow the
reasonings and apprehensions which he had so unreservedly poured forth in
a letter commenced without the intention at which the writer arrived at
the close." But now that the preacher had undertaken the duty of an
advocate, the letter became his brief.

George passed through the library, through the study, up the narrow stair
that finally conducted to the same lofty cell in which Darrell had
confronted the midnight robber who claimed a child in Sophy. With a
nervous hand George knocked at the door.

Unaccustomed to any intrusion on the part of guest or household in that
solitary retreat, somewhat sharply, as if in anger, Darrell's voice
answered the knock.