Mr. Salton waited eagerly. The old diplomatist simply smiled.
"I suppose you both know that I was much interested yesterday in theWatfords?" There was no denial or fending off the question. Both theold men smiled acquiescence. Adam went on: "I meant you to see it--bothof you. You, uncle, because you are my uncle and the nearest of my ownkin, and, moreover, you couldn't have been more kind to me or made memore welcome if you had been my own father." Mr. Salton said nothing. Hesimply held out his hand, and the other took it and held it for a fewseconds. "And you, sir, because you have shown me something of the sameaffection which in my wildest dreams of home I had no right to expect."He stopped for an instant, much moved.
Sir Nathaniel answered softly, laying his hand on the youth's shoulder.
"You are right, my boy; quite right. That is the proper way to look atit. And I may tell you that we old men, who have no children of our own,feel our hearts growing warm when we hear words like those."
Then Adam hurried on, speaking with a rush, as if he wanted to come tothe crucial point.
"Mr. Watford had not come in, but Lilla and Mimi were at home, and theymade me feel very welcome. They have all a great regard for my uncle. Iam glad of that any way, for I like them all--much. We were having tea,when Mr. Caswall came to the door, attended by the negro. Lilla openedthe door herself. The window of the living-room at the farm is a largeone, and from within you cannot help seeing anyone coming. Mr. Caswallsaid he had ventured to call, as he wished to make the acquaintance ofall his tenants, in a less formal way, and more individually, than hadbeen possible to him on the previous day. The girls made himwelcome--they are very sweet girls those, sir; someone will be very happysome day there--with either of them."
"And that man may be you, Adam," said Mr. Salton heartily.
A sad look came over the young man's eyes, and the fire his uncle hadseen there died out. Likewise the timbre left his voice, making it soundlonely.
"Such might crown my life. But that happiness, I fear, is not for me--ornot without pain and loss and woe."
"Well, it's early days yet!" cried Sir Nathaniel heartily.
The young man turned on him his eyes, which had now grown excessivelysad.
"Yesterday--a few hours ago--that remark would have given me new hope--newcourage; but since then I have learned too much."
The old man, skilled in the human heart, did not attempt to argue in sucha matter.
"Too early to give in, my boy."
"I am not of a giving-in kind," replied the young man earnestly. "But,after all, it is wise to realise a truth. And when a man, though he isyoung, feels as I do--as I have felt ever since yesterday, when I firstsaw Mimi's eyes--his heart jumps. He does not need to learn things. Heknows."
There was silence in the room, during which the twilight stole onimperceptibly. It was Adam who again broke the silence.
"Do you know, uncle, if we have any second sight in our family?"
"No, not that I ever heard about. Why?"
"Because," he answered slowly, "I have a conviction which seems to answerall the conditions of second sight."
"And then?" asked the old man, much perturbed.
"And then the usual inevitable. What in the Hebrides and other places,where the Sight is a cult--a belief--is called 'the doom'--the court fromwhich there is no appeal. I have often heard of second sight--we havemany western Scots in Australia; but I have realised more of its trueinwardness in an instant of this afternoon than I did in the whole of mylife previously--a granite wall stretching up to the very heavens, sohigh and so dark that the eye of God Himself cannot see beyond. Well, ifthe Doom must come, it must. That is all."
The voice of Sir Nathaniel broke in, smooth and sweet and grave.
"Can there not be a fight for it? There can for most things."
"For most things, yes, but for the Doom, no. What a man can do I shalldo. There will be--must be--a fight. When and where and how I know not,but a fight there will be. But, after all, what is a man in such acase?"
"Adam, there are three of us." Salton looked at his old friend as hespoke, and that old friend's eyes blazed.
"Ay, three of us," he said, and his voice rang.
There was again a pause, and Sir Nathaniel endeavoured to get back toless emotional and more neutral ground.
"Tell us of the rest of the meeting. Remember we are all pledged tothis. It is a fight _a l'outrance_, and we can afford to throw away orforgo no chance."
"We shall throw away or lose nothing that we can help. We fight to win,and the stake is a life--perhaps more than one--we shall see." Then hewent on in a conversational tone, such as he had used when he spoke ofthe coming to the farm of Edgar Caswall: "When Mr. Caswall came in, thenegro went a short distance away and there remained. It gave me the ideathat he expected to be called, and intended to remain in sight, or withinhail. Then Mimi got another cup and made fresh tea, and we all went ontogether."
"Was there anything uncommon--were you all quite friendly?" asked SirNathaniel quietly.