"Why?—well—because—" Here Helmsley spoke very gently—"because I believe she loves you!"
The colour kindled in Reay's face.
"Ah, don't fool me, David!" he said—"you don't know what it would mean to me——"
"Fool you!" Helmsley sat upright in his chair and looked at him with an earnestness which left no room for doubt. "Do you think I would 'fool' you, or any man, on such a matter? Old as I am, and lonely and friendless as I was, before I met this dear woman, I know that love is the most sacred of all things—the most valuable of all things—better than gold—greater than power—the only treasure we can lay up in heaven 'where neither moth nor rust do corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal!' Do not"—and here his strong emotion threatened to get the better of him—"do not, sir, think that because I was tramping the road in search of a friend to help me, before Miss Mary found me and brought me home here and saved my life, God bless her!—do not think, I say, that I have no feeling! I feel very much—very strongly—" He broke off breathing quickly, and his hands trembled. Reay hastened to his side in some alarm, remembering what Mary had told him about the old man's heart.
"Dear old David, I know!" he said. "Don't worry! I know you feel it all—I'm sure you do! Now, for goodness' sake, don't excite yourself like this—she—she'll never forgive me!" and he shook up the cushion at the back of Helmsley's chair and made him lean upon it. "Only it would be such a joy to me—such a wonder—such a help—to know that she really loved me!—loved me, David!—you understand—why, I think I could conquer the world!"
Helmsley smiled faintly. He was suffering physical anguish at the moment—the old sharp pain at his heart to which he had become more or less wearily accustomed, had dizzied his senses for a space, but as the spasm passed he took Reay's hand and pressed it gently.
"What does the Great Book tell us?" he muttered. "'If a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned!' That's true! And I would never 'fool' or mislead you on a matter of such life and death to you, Mr. Reay. That's why I tell you to speak to Miss Mary as soon as you can find a good opportunity—for I am sure she loves you!"
"Sure, David?"
"Sure!"
Reay stood silent,—his eyes shining, and "the light that never was on sea or land" transfigured his features.