know either joy or sorrow, had bowed down and wept over his son.  The room was just as we had left it an April evening years ago, and on the dresser lay the great backgammon board, so dusty that one could not read the lettering on it; ’Life is like a game of hazard; the skilful player will make something of the worst of throws’; but what unskillful players we had been, how bad our throws, how little we had made of them!

’Twas with thoughts like this that I was busy while the short afternoon was spent, and the story went up and down the village, how that Elzevir Block and John Trenchard, who left so long ago, were come back to Moonfleet, and that the old lander was drowned saving the young man’s life.  The dusk was creeping up as I turned back the sail from off his face and took another look at my lost friend, my only friend; for who was there now to care a jot for me?  I might go and drown myself on Moonfleet beach, for anyone that would grieve over me.  What did it profit me to have broken bonds and to be free again? what use was freedom to me now? where was I to go, what was I to do?  My friend was gone.

So I went back and sat with my head in my hands looking into the fire, when I heard someone step into the room, but did not turn, thinking it was Master Ratsey come back and treading lightly so as not to disturb me.  Then I felt a light touch on my shoulder, and looking up saw standing by me a tall and stately woman, girl no longer, but woman in the full strength and beauty of youth.  I knew her in a moment, for she had altered little, except her oval face had something more of dignity, and the tawny hair that used to fly about her back was now gathered up.  She was looking down at me, and let her hand rest on my shoulder.  ‘John,’ she said, ’have you forgotten me?  May I not share your sorrow?  Did you not think to tell me you were come?  Did you not see the light, did you not know there was a friend that waited for you?’

I said nothing, not being able to speak, but marvelling how she had come just in the point of time to prove me wrong to think I had no friend; and she went on: 

’Is it well for you to be here?  Grieve not too sadly, for none could have died nobler than he died; and in these years that you have been away, I have thought much of him and found him good at heart, and if he did aught wrong ‘twas because others wronged him more.’

And while she spoke I thought how Elzevir had gone to shoot her father, and only failed of it by a hair’s-breadth, and yet she spoke so well I thought he never really meant to shoot at all, but only to scare the magistrate.  And what a whirligig of time was here, that I should have saved Elzevir from having that blot on his conscience, and then that he should save my life, and now that Maskew’s daughter should be the one to praise Elzevir when he lay dead!  And still I could not speak.

And again she said:  ’John, have you no word for me? have you forgotten? do you not love me still?  Have I no part in your sorrow?’