have been filled by Gerald. He felt it now as he stopped and faced the latter in the moonlight.
But Gerald looked straight up into Philip's face. He smiled and said, "Philip, I believe your father didn't do that."
Touchtone put out his hand with a quick gesture of intense surprise.
"Gerald!" he cried as their two palms met in a clasp that hurt the smaller one, "what in the world made you say that?" There was something solemn, as well as eager, in his tone.
"O, nothing particular," the heir of the Saxton impulsiveness answered, simply; "but I don't believe it, that's all! I don't!"
"He don't believe it either," Gerald heard Philip say, as if to himself, "and I don't. What a little trump you are, Gerald Saxton!" They walked a little further in silence; then Philip again spoke, in a tone from which all the sudden joy and cheerfulness were gone: "Well, Gerald, you and I may be able to prove it together some day to the people. But I don't know—I don't know!"
Certainly they were to accomplish many strange things together, whether that was to be one of them or not.
