"Yes. Yes, I--see. I see what you mean. Yes, Hartley did all you say.
I hadn't meant to rob Hartley of the credit he deserves. I suppose
you're right." He was possessed of a sudden longing to get away out of
that room, and he rose to his feet.
"If you don't mind," he said, "I think I'd better go. This is--well,
it's a bit of a facer, you see. I want to think it over. Perhaps
to-morrow--you don't mind?" He saw a swift relief flash into Miss
Benham's eyes, but she murmured a few words of protest that had a rather
perfunctory sound. Ste. Marie shook his head.
"Thanks! I won't stay," said he. "Not just now. I--think I'd better
go." He had a confused realisation of platitudinous adieux, of a silly
formality of speech, and he found himself in the hall. Once he glanced
back, and Miss Benham was standing where he had left her, looking after
him with a calm and unimpassioned face. He thought that she looked
rather like a very beautiful statue.
The butler came to him to say that Mr. Stewart would be glad if he would
look in before leaving the house, and so he went upstairs and knocked at
old David's door. He moved like a man in a dream, and the things about
him seemed to be curiously unreal and rather far away, as they seem
sometimes in a fever.
He was admitted at once, and he found the old man sitting up in bed,
clad in one of his incredibly gorgeous mandarin's jackets--plum-coloured
satin, this time, with peonies--overflowing with spirits and
good-humour. His grandson sat in a chair near at hand. The old man
gave a shout of welcome--
"Ah, here's Jason, at last, back from Colchis. Welcome home to--whatever
the name of the place was. Welcome home!" He shook Ste. Marie's hand
with hospitable violence, and Ste. Marie was astonished to see upon what
a new lease of life and strength the old man seemed to have entered.
There was no ingratitude or misconception here, certainly. Old David
quite overwhelmed his visitor with thanks and with expressions of
affection.
"You've saved my life among other things!" he said in his gruff roar.
"I was ready to go, but, by the Lord, I'm going to stay a while longer
now! This world's a better place than I thought--a much better place."
He shook a heavily-waggish head.
"If I didn't know," said he, "what your reward is to be for what you've
done, I should be in despair over it all, because there is nothing else
in the world that would be anything like adequate. You've been making
sure of the reward downstairs, I dare say? Eh, what? Yes?"
"You mean----?" asked the younger man.