‘Yes! you will be a good man, and God will give you work to do.’
He bent his head over her hands and stepped back from her as from a queen, but he spoke no word till we came to Craig’s door. Then he said with humility that seemed strange in him, ‘Connor, that is great, to conquer oneself. It is worth while. I am going to try.’
I would not have missed his meeting with Craig. Nelson was busy with tea. Craig was writing near the window. He looked up as Graeme came in, and nodded an easy good-evening; but Graeme strode to him and, putting one hand on his shoulder, held out his other for Craig to take.
After a moment’s surprise, Craig rose to his feet, and, facing him squarely, took the offered hand in both of his and held it fast without a word. Graeme was the first to speak, and his voice was deep with emotion—
‘You are a great man, a good man. I’d give something to have your grit.’
Poor Craig stood looking at him, not daring to speak for some moments, then he said quietly—
‘Not good nor great, but, thank God, not quite a traitor.’
‘Good man!’ went on Graeme, patting him on the shoulder. ‘Good man! But it’s tough.’
Craig sat down quickly, saying, ‘Don’t do that, old chap!’
I went up with Craig to Mrs. Mavor’s door. She did not hear us coming, but stood near the window gazing up at the mountains. She was dressed in some rich soft stuff, and wore at her breast a bunch of wild-flowers. I had never seen her so beautiful. I did not wonder that Craig paused with his foot upon the threshold to look at her. She turned and saw us. With a glad cry, ‘Oh! my darling; you have come to me,’ she came with outstretched arms. I turned and fled, but the cry and the vision were long with me.