Mr. Aston looked at Cæsar and they both smiled.
“I’ve persuaded Sam to open a shop in Stormly and put Jim into it. He says you can’t make a living honestly in grocery, but I’d take himself in preference to his word.”
“You’ve beaten him after all, old chap.”
It was Cæsar who spoke, and he held out his thin hand towards his big boy, who came and sat by him in silence a while. The twilight crept up over the earth and freed the soul of things as it stole their material forms. The two men looking out and watching the gentle robber, wasted no regrets on the day, no fears on the approaching night. Behind them, where Mr. Aston sat, it was dark already, and as his son watched Christopher, so he watched Aymer.
“We have made our roads,” he thought, “Aymer and I, and thank God we leave behind us a better Roadmaker still, who will make smooth paths for the children’s feet.”
Outside two white figures came slowly towards the house and were joined by a third, Nevil, to judge by his height.
“Cæsar,” said Christopher, “have you forgiven me taking my own way and giving up what you gave me?”
“Do you think I see anything to forgive in it?” 382
“You gave me my choice, and you gave me my chance. It looked on the surface so ungrateful,” persisted Christopher.
“You question the quality of my eyesight?”