take charge of it. Dr. Sinclair, will you accept the position?

66

Mr. MacAllister, such a position has been the dream of my life. I will accept it gladly."

"I thought you would. Now as to the place. Since it was in North Formosa my son's life was saved, it would be appropriate that in North Formosa the hospital should be built. And there I intended to build it and present it to the mission of the Canadian Church. But, since your Church has refused your application on what are to me entirely insufficient grounds, the hospital will be erected in Hong-Kong and presented to one of the missions there. In all probability you will be able to do as great, or even a greater, work there than here. Would you be agreeable to that?"

Quite. I had hoped to be able to work under the Church in which I was trained from childhood. But, since it has rejected me, it is a matter of indifference to me under what board I labour, so long as I am doing the duty set before me. But there is one request I wish to make."

66 What is it?"

"I wish to take Sergeant Gorman with me as chief of the staff of male nurses and attendants, whether native or foreign. As you know, he is a Roman Catholic, and some narrow-minded people may make objections."

"There will be no objections. It will be stipulated in the deed of gift."

XL

THE COWARD

PRIL had passed. The first week of May had come, the hot May of the tropics. Yet there

A

was a sweetness, a certain morning freshness about it. On her second trip after the blockade the Hailoong had borne back to Hong-Kong a little group of passengers. They were Mr. MacAllister, his son, and Dr. Sinclair.

Sergeant Gorman, who had returned to Amoy to his family by the previous voyage of the boat, joined them at that port and accompanied them to HongKong. As he expressed it to McLeod, he wanted "jist to be in at the finish; jist to see the docther fix bayonets an' take the fort wid one gallant charge, an' see that spalpeen of a Carteret scattered an' runnin' for cover in total rout and confushun."

Towards midnight the Hailoong slipped into port. There were few about and no guests in the rotunda or corridors of the hotel to whom it was necessary for Mr. MacAllister to introduce the young men by whom he was accompanied.

In the reunion which followed Mrs. MacAllister forgot for the time her opposition to the friendship between her daughter and Sinclair. Her gratitude for his rescue of her son was deep and sincere. With all the warmth of her Highland nature she thanked

him, till he blushed painfully and showed an embarrassment under praise which he had never manifested in the most trying moments of the ridicule he had suffered when they were first acquainted.

The next day passed like a dream to Sinclair. Father and mother were constantly with their long-lost son. Sinclair and Miss MacAllister were left much to themselves. In some way during those seven months of separation they had grown acquainted with one another. That sacred and never-to-be-forgotten hour in which they had confessed their love had found them almost strangers. It had been as one kneels to a sovereign that he had knelt before her and gave her hand the kiss of homage. It was with the grave reverence of a sacred rite that he had sealed their vows of love by pressing his lips to hers.

Seven months had

But that was in the past now. slowly worn away; seven months in which thoughts had been busy. And ever in the background of those thoughts was the fact that they loved each other, and had confessed their love, and neither had shrunk from the other nor repelled a caress. The passion, the abandon of love had grown during those months of waiting. It knew that it would not be refused.

66

Oh, Donald, I have been so weary for you, so lonesome and weary! I have dreamed of you out there under the rains, among the wounded, and facing the bullets. . Donald, I'm ashamed. I know that it wasn't brave. But I couldn't help it. Often and often I cried myself to sleep."

Her face was tear-wet now as he lifted it to his. But it was smiling through its tears.

"Jessie, it was the thought of you which kept me up. It was because of you that I stayed at work.

If it hadn't been for you, I might have given up before the end came. . . . I might not have been there when Allister fell."

She shuddered at the thought and pressed closer to him. But Allister was safe, and the suggestion of what might have been now only served as a stimulus to her love for the man to whom she had given her heart before he had done that which was to bind her to him by gratitude as well as by love.

But her mother was not yet ready to give up her project of marrying her daughter to the Earl of Lewesthorpe. He was still the suitor she had accepted, if her daughter had not. She realized very clearly that her daughter had no more inclination towards him than when they came to Hong-Kong. Indeed, it was the other way. On more than one occasion her aversion to him had been so manifest as to cause comment. But Mrs. MacAllister had resolved to have her own way and gain her ambition. Not even gratitude to Dr. Sinclair for his inestimable service could bend her will..

If because she was grateful she had allowed him some liberty that day without her watchful presence, she had intended that evening to make it perfectly plain that Lord Lewesthorpe was the only one who would be countenanced as an aspirant for her hand. With her love for social events, and a touch of the melodramatic, she had invited a very few very select friends for the evening. Most of them did not know that she had a son. None save those who had accompanied him from Formosa knew that her son was in Hong-Kong.

Of course Captain Whiteley and Mr. McLeod were among the guests. Her husband, son, and daughter

had insisted that Sergeant Gorman should be one of the number. Remembering that he had once told her that he was the son of an Irish gentleman, she consented. Otherwise it was to be a surprise.

It was a surprise. The guests arrived one by one and were presented to Allister. The last to come was the lion of the evening. Mrs. MacAllister greeted him effusively and conducted him to where her son sat in a great easy-chair, hidden by a group of guests.

66

Allister, my son, I want you to meet one of our most intimate friends, a particular friend of your sister, the friend of whom I spoke to you to-day, his lordship, the Earl of Lewesthorpe.'

Allister had risen to his feet. The two young men were facing each other in silence. The young aristocrat's dark countenance turned a ghastly yellow and his jaw dropped. Allister's pale cheeks had a flush of burning red and his great dark eyes fairly blazed with anger.

"Carteret! The coward!" burst from his lips.

On the blanched faces of the guests wonder and consternation were written. But astonishment held them dumb. Before any of them could speak Carteret's ready self-assurance returned.

"Lieutenant MacAllister," he said, "why not let by-gones be by-gones? We have both made mistakes. We have both suffered. These things belong to the past. Why not let them die, and start afresh?"

"If it were only the past, Carteret, I would let them die. But it is the present. You were a coward in the past. You are a scoundrel now."

Sinclair stepped quickly to Allister's side, for he saw that he was becoming dangerously excited. Mrs.