His face grew a trifle grey as he straightened himself with a visible effort and limped forward, for he was one who could make a quick decision, while to complete his bitterness Thorne came up behind him and slipped an arm beneath his shoulder.

“You seem a little shaky, I’ll help you up,” he said.  “An axe-cut?  The effect will probably soon wear off.”

Alton understood that Thorne was talking to cover any embarrassment he may have felt, but was not especially grateful just then.  “No,” he said; “a rifle-shot.”

He fancied that Thorne was a trifle astonished, and remembered Seaforth’s story, but they had gained the head of the stairway now, and he looked at Alice Deringham as he added, “And the effect will not wear off.”

Thorne passed through with the others into the lighted room, and Alton stood silent before the girl.  She was a trifle pale, and though the pity for him was there, it is possible that she had understood him, and she was very proud.  Thus the silence that was perilous lasted too long, and her voice was a trifle strained in place of gentle as she said, “I am so sorry.”

Alton, who dared not look at her, now bent his head.  “You are very kind—­still, it can’t be helped,” he said.  “I think Mrs. Forel is coming back for you.  Somebody is going to sing.”

Their hostess approached the doorway, and Alice Deringham found words fail her as she watched the man, though she knew that the silence was horribly eloquent.  It was Alton who broke it.

“You had better go in.  I”—­and he smiled bitterly—­“will wait until the music commences and they cannot notice me.”

The girl could stay no longer, though at last words which would have made a difference to both of them rose to her lips, but Alton waited until he could slip into the room unnoticed, and heard very little of the music.  During it Mrs. Forel managed to secure a few words with Thorne.

“You seem to have made friends with rancher Alton,” she said.

Thorne smiled a little.  “Yes,” he said.  “Of course I know little about him, but I think that is a man one could trust.”

The lady nodded, for he had given her an opportunity.  “You know more about his partner?”

Thorne’s manner appeared to change a trifle, which Mrs. Forel of course noticed.  “Yes,” he said.

The lady thoughtfully smoothed out a fold of her dress.  “Well,” she said with Western frankness, “I want to know a little about him, too.”

Thorne smiled as he saw there was no evading the issue.  “So I surmised from what your husband asked me.  Seaforth was considered a young man of promise when I knew him in England, and his family is unexceptional.  His father, however, lost a good deal of money, which presumably accounts for Charley having turned Canadian rancher.”

Mrs. Forel turned so that she could see her companion.  “That is not what I mean, and I think I had better talk quite straight to you.  Now I like Mr. Seaforth and Mr. Alton, too, and as Jack is mixed up in some business of theirs and they are going to stay down in Vancouver we shall probably see a good deal of them.  Jack, however, is sometimes a little hasty in making friends, and I want to know the other reason that brought Mr. Seaforth out from the old country.”