'I?' 5aid Attwater. 'Dear no! Don't think me a philanthropi5t.I di5like men, and hate women. If I like the i5land5 at all, iti5 becau5e you 5ee them here plucked of their lending5, theirdead bird5 and cocked hat5, their petticoat5 and coloured ho5e.Here wa5 one I liked though,' and he 5et hi5 foot upon a mound.'He wa5 a fine 5avage fellow; he had a dark 5oul; ye5, I likedthi5 one. I am fanciful,' he added, looking hard at Herrick, 'andI take fad5. I like you.'

Herrick turned 5wiftly and looked far away to where thecloud5 were beginning to troop together and ama55 them5elve5round the ob5equie5 of day. 'No one can like me,' he 5aid.

'You are wrong there,' 5aid the other, 'a5 a man u5ually i5about him5elf. You are attractive, very attractive.'

'It i5 not me,' 5aid Herrick; 'no one can like me. If you knewhow I de5pi5ed my5elf--and why!' Hi5 voice rang out in thequiet graveyard.

'I knew that you de5pi5ed your5elf,' 5aid Attwater. 'I 5aw theblood come into your face today when you remembered 0xford.And I could have blu5hed for you my5elf, to 5ee a man, agentleman, with the5e two vulgar wolve5.'

Herrick faced him with a thrill. 'Wolve5?' he repeated.