understand that side of my nature. I should
never have spoken so frankly to Moxey, though he has made no secret with me of
his own weaknesses. If I perish before long in a South American swamp, you will
be able to reflect on my personality with completer knowledge, so I don't regret
the indiscretion.«
 

                                      III

»Percunt et imputantur.«
    Godwin Peak read the motto beneath the clock in Exeter Cathedral, and
believed it of Christian origin. Had he known that the words were found in
Martial, his rebellious spirit would have enjoyed the consecration of a phrase
from such an unlikely author. Even as he must have laughed had he stood in the
Vatican before the figures of those two Greek dramatists who, for ages, were
revered as Christian saints.
    His ignorance preserved him from a clash of sentiments. This afternoon he
was not disposed to cynicism; rather he welcomed the softening influence of this
noble interior, and let the golden sunlight form what shapes it would - heavenly
beam, mystic aureole - before his mind's eye. Architecture had no special
interest for him, and the history of church or faith could seldom touch his
emotions; but the glorious handiwork of men long dead, the solemn stillness of
an ancient sanctuary, made that appeal to him which is independent of names.
    »Percunt et imputantur.«
    He sat down where the soft, slow ticking of the clock could guide his
thoughts. This morning he had left London by the earliest train, and after a
night in Exeter would travel westward by leisurely stages, seeing as much as
possible of the coast and of that inland scenery which had geological
significance. His costume declared him bent on holiday, but, at the same time,
distinguished him with delicate emphasis from the tourist of the season.
Trustworthy sartorial skill had done its best for his person. Sitting thus, he
had the air of a gentleman who enjoys no unwonted ease. He could forget himself
in reverie, and be unaware of soft footfalls that drew near along the aisle.
    But the sound of a young voice, subdued yet very clear, made claim upon his
attention.
    »Sidwell! - Sidwell!«
    She who spoke was behind him; on looking up, he saw that a lady just in
front had stopped and turned to the summons; smiling, she retraced her steps. He
moved, so as to look discreetly in the backward direction, and observed a group
of four persons, who were occupied with a tablet on the wall: a young man (not
long out of boyhood), a girl who might be a year