man in bed made no further comment. His undimmed gaze was fastened upon a
wall, his mouth folded in a hard line on a harsh and deeply seamed
countenance. An able man pursued by bad luck.

"Nothing's been heard from Gerrit," Jeremy said after a little. Still the
other kept silent. His face darkened: by God, if Barzil hadn't a decent
word for the fact that Gerrit was seven months overdue, perhaps lost,
this was not a house for him. "I say that we've had nothing from my son
since he lay in the Lye-ee-Moon Pass off Hong Kong," he repeated sharply.

A spasm of suffering, instantly controlled, passed over Barzil's face.
"Gerrit called once and again before he last sailed for Montevideo," he
finally pronounced. "I stopped it and he left in a temper. I--I won't
have another mortal sin here like Kate's."

"Do you mean that Gerrit's loose?" Jeremy hotly demanded, rising. "A
more honorable boy never breathed." Barzil was cold. "I told him not to
come back," he repeated; "it would only lead to--to shamefulness."
Jeremy shook his cane toward the bed. "I may be a scoffer," he cried,
"but I wouldn't hold a judgment over a child of mine! I'm not so damned
holy that I can look down on a misfortunate girl. If Gerrit did come to
see Nettie and the boy had a liking for her, why you drove away a cursed
good husband. And if you think for a minute I wouldn't welcome her
because that Vollar fell off a yard before he could find a preacher
you're an old fool!"

"Nettie must bear her burden: far better be dead than a stumbling block."

"Well, I'd rather be a drunken pierhead jumper on the Waterloo Road than
any such pious blue nose. I'll tell you this, too--I'd hate to ship afore