The Prodigal Son. Hall Sir Caine

would be ready to give them up?"

      "Certainly I would."

      "You are sure of that?"

      "I am sure of it--that is to say--it would be hard, no doubt--to abandon the aims and ambitions of one's whole life--but if they ever clashed, as you say, with my love for Thora, ever tempted me away from her--tempted me to leave her to go to England for example----"

      "Or to any other country, or any other woman?"

      "That is not possible, Magnus."

      "But if it were possible?"

      "I would not go," said Oscar.

      "So that if I give Thora up and she consents to marry you, nothing and nobody will be allowed to disturb her happiness?"

      "Nothing and nobody," said Oscar.

      "Then write that," said Magnus, tapping the paper on the desk.

      "Write it?"

      "To her, not to me. If you are sure of all this, you cannot be afraid to put it in black and white."

      "I'm not afraid, but it's of no use writing it to Thora."

      "Why not?"

      "Because when you left us yesterday she told me that, though her heart was mine, she had given her word to you, and she would be compelled to keep it."

      "She told you that?"

      "She did."

      Magnus hesitated for a moment, and then said in the husky voice of yesterday, "Write it, nevertheless, and let me take the letter."

      "You mean that, Magnus?"

      "Yes."

      "That you will give her back her word, and speak to her for me?"

      "Write your letter," said Magnus huskily.

      "What a good fellow you are! You make me feel as if I had behaved odiously and wish to heaven I had never come back from England. I cannot wish that, though, for Thora's love is everything on earth to me now, and I would do anything to hold on to it. But if I have done wrong to you I know of no better way of expressing my regret than by placing my dearest interests in your hands. I will write the letter at once, Magnus. I tried to write it twenty times and couldn't, but now I can, and I will."

      While Oscar's pen flew over the blank sheet of paper Magnus sat with head down, digging at the pattern in the carpet. A fierce fight was going on in his heart even yet, for the devil seemed to be whispering in his ear, "What are you doing? Didn't you hear what he said--that Thora had decided to keep her word to you? Are you going to persuade her not to do so? You'll never get over it--never!"

      When Oscar had finished his letter he gave it to Magnus and said: "Here it is. I think it says all we talked about, if less than a fraction of what I feel. She'll listen to you, though, I feel sure of that; but if she does not--if she sends me the same answer----"

      "What will you do then?" asked Magnus, pausing at the door.

      "Then I will take the first steamer back to England, and ask you to say nothing to anybody of what has happened."

      A bright light came into Magnus's face, and then slowly died away.

      "But I cannot think of that yet, Magnus; not till I hear the result of your errand. See her, speak to her, tell her she is not responsible for her father's contract; beg of her not to ruin her own life and mine. Will you?"

      "I will."

      "God bless you, old fellow! You are the best brother a man ever had. Don't be too long away. I shall hardly live until you return. Put me out of suspense as quickly as you can, Magnus. If you only knew how awfully I love the little girl and how much her answer means to me----"

      But Magnus's tortured face had disappeared behind the door.

      At the bottom of the stairs his mother met him, and she said: "So you've been up with Oscar all the time! Your father and the Factor were looking for you everywhere. They had the lawyers with them all the morning, and wanted to consult you about something. It's settled now, I think, so there's no need to trouble. But, goodness gracious, Magnus, how white and worn you look! That work on the mountains hasn't suited you, and you must do no more of it."

      Magnus excused himself to Anna and hastened away to the Factor's. As he passed through the streets with Oscar's letter to Thora in his side pocket, and his nervous fingers clutching it, the devilish voice that had tempted him before seemed to speak to him again and say: "Destroy it! Didn't you hear him say that he would go away? Let him go! Nobody but yourself will know anything about the letter! Even Thora will never know! And when Oscar is gone, Thora will fulfil her promise to you! Let her fulfil it! If she does not love you now, she will come to love you later on. And if she never comes to love you, she will be yours; you will have her, and who has a better right? Destroy it! Destroy it!"

      But his good angel seemed to answer and say:

      "What's the use of having a woman's body if you cannot have her soul? That's lust, not love; and it's too late to think of it anyway. The question you have to decide is simple enough--do you love yourself better than you love Thora, or Thora better than yourself?"

      And then the devil seemed to whisper again and say, "What a fool's errand you are going upon! If you win you lose; if you lose you win. If you persuade Thora to preserve her own happiness you destroy your own! If you do not persuade her to marry Oscar she will marry you! Are you a man? Is there an ounce of hot blood in you?"

      The fight was fierce, but Magnus decided in favor of the girl's happiness against his own, and he said to himself at every step, "Go on; you want Thora to be happy, then carry it through; it is hard, but go on; go on!"

      When he reached the Factor's his great limbs could hardly support themselves and his ashen face was covered with sweat.

      IX

      The Factor's house was full of the sweet smell of the baking of cakes, and Thora and Aunt Margret were in the kitchen with the fronts of their gowns tucked up to their waists, their sleeves turned back, and rolling-pins in their hands, behind a table laden with soft dough and sprinkled with flour.

      "Here's Magnus at last!" said Aunt Margret, "and perhaps he can tell me how it happened that you came home without him yesterday."

      Magnus did his best to laugh it off. "That's a long story, auntie," he said. "A horse's shoe isn't made at a blow, and I want to speak to Thora."

      "Mind you don't keep her long, then. If we're to be ready for all the people who are coming to-morrow there's work here to-day for a baker's dozen."

      Magnus went up to the little sitting-room with the Barnholme clock in it, and Thora followed. There were dark rings under her eyes, and her manner was nervous and restless.

      "I am ashamed of what happened yesterday," she said, "and I ask you to forgive and forget."

      "I cannot do either," said Magnus, "that is to say, not yet, and in the way you mean."

      Thora's eyes began to fill. "Don't be too hard on me, Magnus. I'm trying to make amends, and it isn't very easy."

      "I'm not so hard on you as you are on yourself, Thora, and I'm here to tell you not to do yourself an injustice."

      Thora thought for a moment, and then said, "If you mean that you have come to say that after all I must fulfil my promise, it is unnecessary, because I intend to do so."

      "Will that be right, Thora?"

      "It may not be right to Oscar, perhaps, or to myself----"

      "I'm not thinking about Oscar now, and I'm not thinking about you--I'm thinking about myself--will it be right to me?"

      "What more can I do, Magnus? It wasn't altogether my fault that I gave you my word, but I did give it, and I am trying to keep it."

      "Would it be right to marry me--seeing, as you said yourself, you do not care for me?"

      Thora dropped