"You must promise more strongly than that—the others must be witnesses."
"Oh, sir—oh, sir! you must trust me. Don't call the others in; let me promise to you, yer lone self, an' I will keep my word."
The strange man with the strange eyes looked long for a full minute into Connie's face.
"I could have been good to you," he said, "and what I had to offer was not altogether contemptible. But it somehow wouldn't have fitted in with my memory of Eleanor, who went back to God at eleven years of age, very pure in heart, and just like a little child. 'Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.' Those are the words which mark her little grave in a distant part of the country. If you will follow in her steps, and be pure and good in heart and life, you may meet my Eleanor in another world. And perhaps you may be able to tell her that I—a man given over to extreme wickedness—did one kind deed for her sake when I gave you back to your friends."
"Sir——"
"Not another word. I am a man of moods, and I might recant what I have just said."
Simeon Stylites sounded a little gong on the table. Agnes came hurriedly in.
"Fetch this child's hat and jacket," said the great man imperatively.
Agnes brought them.
"Be I to take her out, sir?" she said.