on steadily and not without definite purpose, "that he hopes you
will be generous enough to let bygones be bygones." Christopher
nodded. "He feels, of course," pursued the lawyer, "that his
obligation to you is greater than he can hope to repay. Indeed, I
think if you knew the true state of the case your judgment of him
would be softened. The boy--who so nearly lost his life is the
one human being whom Fletcher loves better than himself--better
than his own soul, I had almost said."

Christopher looked up attentively. "Who'd have thought it," he
muttered beneath his breath. Judging that he had at last made a
beginning at the plastering over of old scars, Carraway went on
as if the other had not spoken. "So jealous is his affection in
this instance, that I believe his granddaughter's marriage is
something of a relief to him. He is positively impatient of any
influence over the boy except his own--and that, I fear, is
hardly for good." Picking up a clod of earth, Christopher
crumbled it slowly to dust. "So the little chap comes in for all
this, does he?" he asked, as his gaze swept over the wide fields
in the distance. "He comes in for all that is mine by right, and
Fletcher's intention is, I dare say, that he'll reflect honour
upon the theft?" "That he'll reflect honour upon the name--yes.
It is the ambition of his grandfather, I believe, that the lad
should grow up to be respected in the county--to stand for
something more than he himself has done." "Well, he'll hardly
stand for more of a rascal," remarked Christopher quietly; and
then, as his eyes rested on the landscape, he appeared to follow
moodily some suggestion which had half escaped him. "Then the way
to touch the man is through the boy, I presume," he said
abruptly.