The lad’s assurance, which, so far and no further, did duty for courage, deserted him.  He was evidently not prepared to be made the subject of another court-martial, and the hand he laid on the table in front of him trembled a little.

“Madam,” he said hoarsely, “if I admit everything what will you do?”

“Nothing,” said Maud Barrington coldly.  “On condition that within a month you leave Silverdale.”

Ferris stared at her.  “You can’t mean that.  You see, I’m fond of farming, and nobody would give me what the place cost me.  I couldn’t live among the outside settler fellows.”

The girl smiled coldly.  “I mean exactly what you heard, and, if you do not enlighten them, the settlers would probably not object to you.  Your farm will be taken over at what you gave for it.”

Ferris stood up.  “I am going to make a last appeal.  Silverdale’s the only place fit for a gentleman to live in in Canada, and I want to stay here.  You don’t know what it would cost me to go away, and I’d do anything for reparation—­send a big check to a Winnipeg hospital and starve myself to make up for it if that would content you.  Only, don’t send me away.”

His tone grew almost abject as he proceeded, and while Miss Barrington’s eyes softened, her niece’s heart grew harder because of it, as she remembered that he had brought a strong man down.

“No,” she said dryly.  “That would punish your mother and sisters from whom you would cajole the money.  You can decide between leaving Silverdale, and having the story, and the proof of it, put into the hands of Colonel Barrington.”

She sat near an open window regarding him with quiet scorn, and the light that shone upon her struck a sparkle from her hair and set the rounded cheek and neck gleaming like ivory.  The severity of her pose became her, and the lad’s callow desire that had driven him to his ruin stirred him to impotent rage in his desperation.  There were gray patches in his cheeks, and his voice was strained and hoarse.

“You have no mercy on me because I struck at him,” he said.  “The one thing I shall always be sorry for is that I failed, and I would go away with pleasure if the horse had trampled the life out of him.  Well, there was a time when you could have made what you wished of me, and now, at least, I shall not see the blackleg you have showered your favors on drag you down to the mire he came from.”

Maud Barrington’s face had grown very colorless, but she said nothing, and her aunt rose and raised the hammer of a gong.

“Ferris,” she said.  “Do you wish to be led out by the hired men?”

The lad laughed, and the hideous merriment set the white-haired lady’s nerves on edge.  “Oh, I am going now, but, for once, let us be honest.  It was for her I did it, and if it had been any other man I had injured, she would have forgiven me.”

Then with an ironical farewell he swung out of the room, and the two women exchanged glances when the door closed noisily behind him.  Miss Barrington was flushed with anger, but her niece’s face was paler than usual.