“We do not live in Fardale now.”
“Ah, indeed? Then you are going there on a visit?”
“Yes.”
“How fortunate! Truly, it seems that Providence has brought this about. How disappointed I would have been had I gone there and not found you, Miss Burrage!”
“My father has traveled much for his health,” said Inza.
“And, having failed to find it, I’m going back to Fardale to die,” declared the invalid, in a weak voice.
“Oh, not so bad as that, I hope!” cried Swift. “You don’t want to give up that way. The man who gives up and says ‘die’ usually has his way. I knew a fellow in our company who felt that way just before a skirmish. He got it, all right. The little yellow devils soaked him in four different places, and he just lay down and groaned, ‘I knew it was coming!’ Then he croaked. If he hadn’t felt certain he was booked, it’s possible he might be living still.”
“Folly,” declared Bernard Burrage. “His time had come, and he was forewarned. It is true with me. I have had the warning.”
“Please—please don’t talk that way, papa!” begged Inza, the color going out of her face.
“Forgive me, child,” he murmured. “I forgot.” Then he relapsed into silence, and sat looking out of the window at the snow-bound world.