"That's the sort of men the great Northland breeds," said Britton. "They are men to the very marrow! But in the matter of contrition and indemnification–"
"Indemnification only," objected Ainsworth, stolidly. "I fail to recognize any guilt."
"But still he must feel contrition," argued Trascott, kindly. "And I know what remorseful penance has been yours," he added, to Britton.
"Half the gold of that Five Mountain strike should have been Lessari's," Rex declared.
"Failing that, it belonged to his heirs," the lawyer supplemented.
"I took that view," said Britton. "I am glad you uphold it. Is that your opinion also, Trascott? I asked you both here for the purpose of obtaining advice, faultless and impersonal judgment."
"It is my opinion," the curate answered. "It was undoubtedly your duty to effect any reparation within your power."
"That I did," Rex assured him. "In Dawson I made enquiries and found that Lessari had a daughter. People told me he had no other relation in the world. Of course, my plan was one difficult of execution. I couldn't give the girl a fortune without courting investigation and suspicion. Happily, however, I had seen her before, without knowing her name, and I soon became acquainted with her.
"Lessari's daughter was something of an artist, and I soon saw that she had inherited the great gift, that she was a veritable genius with the brush. That gave me my cue. I simulated eager interest in her work, hired instructors for her, paid for her board at a minister's house, and gave her every comfort she could have. She accepted my aid on the proud condition that she should repay me on attaining sufficient eminence to sell her work.
"Of course I agreed. The thing went on that way for a little while, but not for long. People began to talk about my relations with the girl–"