Christine stood watching him intently.

"What are you going to do, Tom?" she said quietly. "I am going to save
your brother, if I can," was his reply, as he handed her Nic's letter.




CHAPTER XIX

Half an hour later, as Ferrol was passing from Louis Lavilette's stables
into the road leading to the Seigneury he met Sophie Farcinelle, face to
face. In a vague sort of way he was conscious that a look of despair and
misery had suddenly wasted the bloom upon her cheek, and given to the
large, cow-like eyes an expression of child-like hopelessness. An apathy
had settled upon his nerves. He saw things as in a dream. His brain
worked swiftly, but everything that passed before his eyes was, as it
were, in a kaleidoscope, vivid and glowing, but yet intangible. His
brain told him that here before him was a woman into whose life he had
brought its first ordeal and humiliation. But his heart only felt a
reflective sort of pity: it was not a personal or immediate realisation,
that is, not at first.

He was scarcely conscious that he stood and looked at her for quite two
minutes, without motion or speech on the part of either; but the dumb,
desolate look in her eyes--a look of appeal, astonishment, horror and
shame combined, presently clarified his senses, and he slowly grew to
look at her as at his punishment, the punishment of his life. Before
--always before--Sophie had been vague and indistinct: seen to-day,