“I hope so, sir.”

“Then behave as one under all circumstances.  Never lie—­even to women; never cheat—­even the government.  That is all.  I cannot bless you if that is what you want.  No man can bless another—­not even the Pope of Rome or the Archbishop of Canterbury.  No one under heaven can bless you.  You can only bless yourself by doing your whole duty under all circumstances.  You will have men in authority over you.  Obey them.  You will have authority over other men.  Make them obey you.  There, good-by!” said old Aaron Rockharrt, holding out his hand to his grandson.

Sylvan noticed how that hand shook as its aged owner held it up.  He took it, lifted it to his lips, and pressed it to his heart.

“There, there; don’t be foolish, Sylvan!  Good-by!  Good-by!  And you, Fabian!  What are you loitering here for, when you should be looking after the works?” impatiently demanded the Iron King.

“The carriage stands at the door, sir, waiting to take Sylvan to his train.  I shall go with him as far as North End and try to do your work there in addition to my own.”

“Quite right.  Where is Clarence?”

“At North End, sir, where he went directly after he saw you safe in bed under the doctor’s care,” said Mr. Fabian, lying as fast as a horse could trot.

“Very well.  Send the two women here.”

“There happen to be three women below at present, sir.  Violet has come to see you.”

In the morning sitting room below stairs Sylvan and Fabian found the three ladies with Clarence, all in a state of anxiety to hear from the injured man.

Sylvan was more agitated in leaving his sister than any young soldier should have been.  At the last, the very last instant of parting, when Mr. Fabian had left the parlor and was on his way to the carriage, Sylvan turned back and for the third time clasped Cora in his arms.

“Never mind, Sylvan, as soon as I possibly can, without violating my duty to the only one on earth to whom I owe any duty, I shall go out to you.  I can see now, now in this hour of parting, how very right I was in deciding to go with you.  My journey is not abandoned, it is only postponed.  God bless you, my dear.”

After standing at the front door until they had watched the carriage out of sight, the three went up stairs and softly entered the room of the injured man, so softly that he did not hear their entrance.  They stood in a silent group, believing him to be asleep, and afraid to sit down, lest a chair should creak and wake him up.

In a few seconds, however, they heard him clear his throat, knew that he was awake, and went up to his bedside.

Rose spoke, gently, for all.

“You sent for us, Mr. Rockharrt.  We are all here, and we hope that you are much better,” she said.

“Oh, you do!  Stand there—­all three of you at the foot of the bed, so that I can see you without turning.”