The Prodigal Son. Hall Sir Caine

nothing to say in the matter. I was never asked--never consulted."

      "But I asked you myself, Thora."

      "That was when everything had been settled and arranged, Magnus."

      "But if you had told me even then, Thora--if you had told me that you did not wish it--that you could not care for me----"

      "I didn't know at that time, Magnus."

      "You didn't know, Thora?"

      "I didn't know that the love I felt for you was not the right love--that there was another kind of love altogether, and that before a girl should bind herself to any one for better or worse until death parts them, she ought to love him with all her heart and soul and strength."

      "And do you know that kind of love now, Thora?" asked Magnus, and Thora faltered, "Yes."

      That word was like a death-knell to Magnus. He stared blankly before him and muttered beneath his breath, "My God! My God!" and then Thora broke down utterly.

      No one spoke for some moments. Magnus was going through a terrible struggle. He was telling himself that, after all, these two had something to say for themselves. They had their excuse, their justification. They loved each other, and perhaps they could not avoid doing what they had done, while he--he who had thought himself the injured person--was really the one who was in the way.

      When Thora's weeping ceased, Magnus looked up and said, in a voice that was pitifully hoarse and husky,

      "So it's all over, it seems, and there's no help for it?"

      No one spoke, and Magnus said again, "Well, a man's heart does not break, I suppose, so I daresay I shall get over it."

      Still the others said nothing, and Magnus looked from Oscar to Thora and said, quite simply, "But what is to be done? If it is all over between Thora and me, what is to be done now?"

      Neither of them answered him, so he turned to Thora and said, "Your father was to have the contract ready by the time of our return--can you ask him to destroy it?"

      She did not reply. "You can't--I know you can't--your father would never forgive you--never."

      Then he turned to Oscar: "The Governor has plans about the partnership--can you fulfil them if I should fail?--No? Is it impossible?"

      Oscar gave no sign, and after a moment Magnus said, "Then I must be the first to move, I suppose. But perhaps that is only right, since I am the one who has to get out of the way."

      "Don't say that, Magnus," cried Thora.

      "Why not? Better a sour truth than a sweet lie, Thora."

      Thora dropped her eyes; Oscar turned aside; they heard Magnus's foot on the stones as if he were moving away, but they dared not look lest they should see his face. After a moment he stopped and spoke again:

      "When I was coming down the mountain I thought we might go home together--all three together--but perhaps we had better not. Besides, if I have to move first in that matter, I have my work cut out for me, and I must be alone to think of it."

      "What are you going to do?" asked Oscar.

      "God knows!" said Magnus. "He has got us into a knot. He must get us out of it."

      They heard his heavy boots on the sliding stones as he stepped down the rock; they heard him speak cheerfully to his pony as he swung to the saddle; they heard the crack of his long reins as he slashed them above the pony's head, and then--as well as they could for the tears that were blinding them--they saw him bent double and flying across the plain.

      VIII

      Early next day Magnus called at Government House and went up to Oscar's room. He found Oscar sitting at a desk with a pen in his hand, a blank sheet of paper before him, and sundry torn scraps lying about, as if he had been trying in vain to write a letter. The brothers greeted each other with constraint, and during the greater part of their interview neither of them looked into the other's face.

      "I have come to tell you," said Magnus, sitting by the side of the desk and fixing his eyes on the carpet at his feet, "I have come to tell you that I see a way--I think I see a way out of our difficulty."

      "What is it?" asked Oscar, looking steadfastly at the blank sheet of paper before him.

      "It is a plan which does not involve Thora at all, or in any way reflect upon you, therefore you need not ask me what it is. I expect to try it to-morrow, and if it succeeds the consequences will be mine--mine only--and nobody else will be blamed or affected."

      Oscar bowed his head over the blank sheet of paper and said nothing.

      "But before I take the step I am thinking of, I want to be sure it will be worth taking, and have the results I expect. That's why I am here now--I am here to ask you certain questions."

      "What are they?" said Oscar.

      "They are very intimate and personal questions, but I think I have a right to ask them, seeing what I intend to do," said Magnus, and then, in a firmer voice, "and a right to have them answered, also."

      "Ask them," said Oscar.

      "I want to know, first, whether, if I can liberate Thora from her promise to me, you will marry her?"

      "Indeed, yes--if she will have me--yes!"

      "You said yesterday, you remember, that love--mutual love--was the only basis of a true marriage. Perhaps I forgot that in my own case, but I must not forget it now. So it is not sufficient that Thora should love you; it is necessary that you should love Thora--you do love her?"

      "Indeed I do."

      "Your attachment is a brief one--are you sure it is not a passing fancy?"

      "Quite sure."

      "It is a solemn thing that two human beings should bind themselves together, as Thora said, for better or worse, until death parts them--you are not afraid of that?"

      "No."

      "You will always love her?"

      "Always," said Oscar.

      "You have counted the cost, all the consequences?"

      "I know nothing of costs and consequences, Magnus. I only know that I love Thora with all my heart and soul, and that if you will liberate her, and she will consent to marry me, I will consecrate my whole life to make her happy."

      Magnus shifted in his seat, cleared his throat, and began again.

      "Thora is a sweet, good girl," he said, "the best and sweetest girl in the world, but she is a simple Iceland maiden who has never been out of her own country. She is not like you, and if you take her to England she will not be like your friends there. Have you thought of that? Are you ready to make allowances for her upbringing and education? Will your love bear all the strain of such a marriage?"

      It was now Oscar's turn to move restlessly in his seat. "Why should you ask me a question like that, Magnus?"

      "Will it?" repeated Magnus more firmly.

      "I certainly think it will."

      "But will it?" said Magnus still more firmly.

      "It will," said Oscar.

      There was a short pause and then Magnus said quietly:

      "There are two or three other questions I wish to ask of you, and I ask them for your sake as much as Thora's."

      "Go on," said Oscar.

      "Thora is practically her father's only daughter now, and he is old and very fond of her. If he should wish her to remain in Iceland after her marriage, you would be willing to live here for the rest of your life?"

      "If he made it a condition--yes."

      "Naturally the Governor has certain plans for you, having spent so much on your education, and you have your own aims and ambitions also, but if these should clash with your love for Thora, if they should tempt you away from her, you