The Abergavenny Mail

[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED]. For Love and Honour By HAROLD EINDLOSS, Author of "A Wide Dominion," His Adversary's Daughter," The Kingdom of Courage," "The Mistress of Bonaventure," &c. CHAPTER 1. I It was a fine spring evening, and Christo- pher Elliot, the slate quarry owner. sar cigar in hand on the terrace walk of his house at i.ow Wood, in the North country. Creepers | traded acroS8 the front of the old hui!dinO' I trailed across the front ox the old building, •which was spotted with the silver and grey of lichens where the stone -as awl the tH!lllig:Jt fln;;l1ed upon its mullion,¡l \vÏ;Hkmg. A larch wood crept down the hill behind it, and in front, beyond the sweep of lawn, a deci) valley wound among the foils, wiiii-h rose, Jibb-d with fissured crags, in dusky masses against the western sky. it was a fair prospect to feast the eyes upon, and Christo- pher, who loved it, sometimes thought that there was nothing in any other land to com- pare with this. He was a quiet, big-boned, hard-headed Englishman, whose wife had died young. ,1 with him sat his close friend, Humphrey Vane, of Oxford. brother-in-law of Christo- pher's cousin, Arnold, the respected head of the family. The Elliots were old standarl' as they sav in the north—descendants of the -wild moss-troopers who once terrorised the neighbouring border. They had dwelt for generations in the dale, and Arnold's house at. Ruleholme was its show-place. Its fine grounds were open to all-comers every Thursdav; for Arnold Elliot was a popular man and a leader in that corner of the cmriry. Tie, too, had lost his wife some years earlier, and Vane, who was a famous moun- taineer. spent his leisure between Low Wood and Ruleholme. The latter was a mickue- aged n an, characterised, as a rule, by a drily whimsical manner, and nobody who met luin among the fells would have taken him for an -expert in ancient philosophy, though he t'l-ewhere regarded as an authority on classic erudition. A thrush was singing on an oak bougiu feathered with bronzy buds, and the spinn- ing gurgle of a beck rose musically out of a neighbouring ghyll. Christopher listened to both with lazy content, and then glanced to- wards his daughter Alison. She w an holding up strips of cloth to a young man who a good deal of his time at Low Wood, and who was then perched insecurely on a slanted •window-ledge nailing in a clematis. It would be a good match, from ni<>r points of view," said Vane, who followed hi" companion's glance. "Tint's probaoh one reason whv it's less likely to come about. Alison's as charmingly illogical-as the rest of them." Christopher smiled. "In a way. it s a :i>u. I've no fault to find with young Winter, vs- cept that he's an idler; though, as he says, 111 these days, when every profusion's over- crowded. there's perhaps no reason a man should work when he needii r. A.ison. however, doesn't agree with him. :n¡ù I be- Iteve he once thought of going into the sen. vrivte bank the family have long hd-1 '? f,ruU:ng interest in. It'snodhub?f.?.?.tL. for eveTvbodv coneai"0°d that the d'?cturs ) -wouldn'thear of ir. ¡ "I suppose he has really no chance v. ith Alison? Christopher rubbed the asil fi-oti iii, -thoughtfully. It's more than a year since he first mentioned the subject to inc. ami thev haven't arrived at any underpinning that I've been acquainted with yet. 1 haven t asked Alison about it, however. I think"- and he smiled-" she's capable ot aeeiu^ mg for herself." Just then Winter sprang down from ine window ledge and came towards them with the girl. He was a well-bnilt young English- man, with a pleasant, sun-burnt ta?, and nothing in the least remarkable in his appeal- ance. The same tbiiiy,, as it I)al)twllel. plied to his character and abilities. I 's com- panion was tall for a woman, and as the pale- ?Y dress that nowed ?bout her showed, & "haped. She held herself v.e 1..d \er cleanly-cut face was nntcd w,.h th, En^listi cream and pink, a litt)e warmed >•>; ?h?e ??un Her eyes met one steaddy, and AIK M ?1' as the lights changed in, rhew. anc there was? faint, coppery gleam u. the ? bio??;n hair beneath her big white hat Winter drew out a chair for her, an 1 a cr wards sitting down upon the low t"rrA.<. ??1 to?k out his l?ndkerchief aad wIped Ins forehe,,id. '"1?' scratched my face. ? ?ust h?v. been one of those 11,11 f, he s?ut. Sovou have, said Alison. (locsu-. Jock ?rio?. No doubt, you 11^ Winter laughed. "lt? probable, I g?t ver a worse inj ury in the same place .h.u? I ?ti!! feel it now and then before ? c!):?"? ot -weather. I did so this afternoon. He had la-id his hat down, and the others ,could see a plain white scar running aero-* the slight scratch upon his. forehead. -It would be a great pny if ib.'wether did change before Arnold's ??«..n par.y ?id Alieon. He's tak.ng no end of t "u'e to make it a success, though, ot course, he ui- does things properly. Arnold always Wtv. a credit to llw familv," Christopher remarked with a *n»ile. We' have fallen into the habit of luoklllg up to him." "Inreatitv.voui-ca? proud 'If him ,> 1 am, though i don't mind oWllin storied. "I suppose he has h.si.y..?;? he's a model of all that a successful man and a. polished gentleman ought to h2." A few obvious faults make one human," Vane said, drily. Alison disregarded this. -I suppose tarn old-fashioned in some respect, tlllt I « a:i t help feeling there's something to be proud ot in belonging to a family that has always taken the lead iu anything useful and kepr n* name clean. Arnold has done both, and ;t tiilly people like to laugh at my ideas 1 doit 1 mind." You are a full-blooded lorv of the ataunchest type," Vane declared. "And what are you?" I'm supposed to be a philosopher," V ano said, meekly. "And don't philosophers hold my vivws. "A number of them do-at Oxford," Yane replied. Alison laughed. There was no doubt that ohe believed in the old traditions, and—for there was a trace of the aristocrat in her iiature-fa,milv pride was strong in her: but it was a clean and whole-some pride that aever stooped to cither ostentation or petty meanness. One must confess that all the members of the family haven't acted OIl Arnold's lines, her father pointed out. There was Mad Jack, my cousin, for instance. He certainiv 3nade the. name famous—or notorious, whien ia, perhaps, the better wordon his iew visits. Captain Jack must have been a rr.nk'in g 'd ane. I n- thorn in Arnold's side, sa. Y:uu> I rt- raember the time he drove the touri.-ite' char- -a-banc down Greyrigg bank with the brakes -off and the four greys stretched at the gallop, though how he got the reins out of old Wat "a cautious grasp nobody could ur.de rstaud. Then there was the other occasion when he took the tee in hand and pulled Sir Allan's fences down. They'd been freshly tarred as a. defensive measure, and he -walked back triumphant to Ruleholme, where there were a good many guest*, as black as any sweep. I don't think Arnold ever forgave him for it. Yet he was believed to be a very fine seaman." '• And he atoned for his last fault by dying gallantly," said Christopher. It's curious we never heard what became of his son who was in Arnold's office," Alison broke in. I've always had an idea I saw him the evening he disappeared." She turned to Winter: "It was his fault you cut your head, wasn't it? I don't remember all about the affair." He was blamed, mainly because he bolt* d but somehow I fancied it was really the other fellow," Winter replied. There'd lieen a good deal of poaching in our preserved waver, and that evening 1 wa-s going round with the watcher—some way in front of hhn--he went over the little crag to look up the date. ft getting dusk when I found two fellows fishing inside our boundary. I got hold of the j nearest one liel'ore I saw that he was a tourist, and I think I would have let liii,,i go mwly that he unceremoniously gave me one ia Ihe eye. After that, of Cf), I had "? ;'? to him, and he proved a tough customer. The end of it was that before the \v?.tc:h$r cev:i come iip the Fair o? uc, i"??ll t,i,? don't know how the fellow a?ghted, L?i: 1 came down with my head ?g.'in.: a. r::?' ? stone, and I must havo locked pretty b:id, be- cause. while one fellow ran a\"ay t}; other came back acro-ss the river ?.;id)r;.d to hrirr; me round. I know that because he L-tt his -?et handkerchief, b! t he bo?ed JHStb.o;? the watcher arrived. I did:, :0" v-L him." n' I never told anylwdr, -:?- 1 '?-n? s i xteen U!"n. H:: d I was efrei d ■> F ??'3 ;1i:l;' .:),,¡.'? f, "E?:it ve-.ia a 1 -• v. w.  ?.. r. I J IV Alison went. on. "I down to the ste p o i n:nones thru. < v .j: ;,]} a' t:I: .r¡;;lH.>(\r \\i\-l\ :1, I was half afraid I couldn't get across. A in a; Ii! a nshieg "o -I remember g-.c.:s.:i j £:{,: ¡:'i: I''l:i{ I'll;i;' g:ï.X came up an d (?-?Tz!r-,d hc?) me over. litk?'? his face and ;j:1Jl;-L'r and the v ay he -stepped into the water when one of the stones was covered so that he eotdd help me better. In fact, he afterwards walked right through the river." But what made you think it was Ilarry Elliot?" Chri.(..puer inquired- There were no strangers except hin and his companion in the dale. You a ill remem- ber the police found that. out. Besides. I felt, he must be one of—us-by hiis manner and the way he took his hat off and left me with- out trying t.j ,-ay anything when we had got across." There spoke the family pride Vane commented. "Harry would be close en twenty i 1,r-;TI," Christopher »aid thoughtfully. Alison hadn't met him previously, because, although he and his mother had once lived a year or two in tiie dale, she was t1 at school. Any- how. he and bis friend had b»jen staving at the Golden L-'ieeee for a week before the affray. But why didn't the young man come here or go to Arnold's? Winter asked. I h?vpr knew he was in the neighbour- hood until afterwards." Christopher explained. "Arnold, 1 fancy, had fallen out with Harry's father, though the latter still commanded one. of his ships, and he probably thought hits obli- gation ended when he ?av? the Id a good ?tartiuhis(ini(-\ They h?d trouble withh?n there. 1 suppose it was to be expected—he tlier+,. Jack's sou." But Captain Jack never could have d. n.e the things his sou did. Alison broke 1:" "The\' \('rc ,() te,-ribh-- ITI:>'IJ," She eeeuied to regret her vehemence and I used to think myself a judge of character; but ii that young man wan Jr:irrv Elliot I was verv .vroti,y in my idea of him. I remember it troubled me' when r heard what Arnold had to say. Winter grinned. Arnold h a c-r.i:s?n of your father's, and generally respected; but I don't know anybody who can express his dis- approval of an offender in a more cuttingly polished way. I'm .speaking from experience. He doesn't think much of tne." Then they talked of Arnold's garden pariv, which was to be an event of importance in the lonely dale; but v. hen the eonversatioi/ lagged Alison recalled the evening on which she had crossed the stepping-stones eight years ago. She could remember the young man's face-- she had thought it honest—and his (puet j grace of maimer; :id ib?, though it was long ago. a faint warmih ibiged her cheeks as ehe recollected some of the things she had heard about his life in Loudon. She had lived, for the iiio;-it part, in the deep green vr.lley hemmed in by the solemn fells, and though she was very human there were things ciie shrank from with downright- repul-.ion. By-and-bye Christopher, who had finished his cigar, sauntered away with Vane, and shortly afterwards Vv inter rose. It's a pitv, but [ must get aleng," he announced. "There are some thing" J have to do." You want to look after the dogs or tie some trout, flies Alison suggested mis- chievously. No I've got a forestry fellow coming over. I'm grinding up all about coniferous trees, a.nd he's coaching me. But wIn;?" Winter looked embarrassed. The fact is, I'm going to plant Tarn Moor. A fellow I paid a big fee to assured me that larch and several of the firs would grow there." But it- will cost a good deal of mann' Ibelieve it will—mostlv in wages." WiHter paused and added with a trace of Wimtt?r P a tl,O(l ;trid -id(led \\Itli a Lr?iet-- of hear of it." \N, -)t;l d be glad to A fine colour crept into Alison's face. She was troubled at the thought ..tf this man. who was far from clever, .patiently otudving forestry and embarking npon a costly enter- prise. to please her. In the meanwhile he looked her steadily in the eyes. It will pay IU the long run, he me on. "Besides, "ou have drilled it into nie that everybody ought to be useful—and what can I do? I tried for the Army, and couldn't get in-they were more particular at Sand- hurst then than they are now. I offered to help them at the bank, al)(i t have me at any price. But I can superintend draining and buy trees, and there's reason for believing that steady work won't come un:is.s to some of the men in tiie winter." "Yon are doing a line thing, said Alison. Winter stood silent a moment, knitting his brows, while the song of the beck came up to them, and a late lark fluted a love-song over- head. Then he broke out hotly, "I have to ask again. Will there never be anv chance for me, whatever I do? he girl held him still with her eves. ("{ Ah:" she ,ad, reproachfully, i; 1 thought you had got over it -and we understood." "My trouble is that I won't get over it while I live." sorry," said Alison, quietly. "Very sorry; but I've tried so hard to make it clear that we were never meant for one another. Please don't ask again. You don't want to drive me away." Winter straightened himself resolute? 7. "Forget it," he said. "Of course, T knew that you could never really care for such a man as I am; but the longing that something would soften you towards me was hard to kill. It isn't the first time it has gripped me by the throat and mastered me. Now "—and he spread his hands out—" I'll try to be con- tent to be near you and see you now and then." He turned and left her standing with a thoughtful face beside the terrace wall. He was a sturdy, honest Englishman, and her ideas on many points agreed with his. It was, she felt, a pity that while she liked the man she had not, and never would have, any real tenderness for him. CHAPTER T-T. The afternoon was somewhat warm. and it was only now and then a wandering air rose from the river, when a man sat in the Temple Gardens, listening to the roar of London. which fell strangely on his ears. He was close upon twenty-eight years of age, and his well cut clothes, which fitted him rather tightly, displayed a leanly muscular figure that had ( been hardened and toughened by manual toil r.fc wore a toft m-ev bar. :1.>1<1 tl". •oiuewnat tiiun race Deneatn it was deeply bronzed by* stinging frost as well as sun. It was an essentiaily English face, with a firm mouth and light-brown eyes, which were singularly steady, though now and then a humorous twinkle crept into them. His attire and general appearance suggested some d0- gree of unostentatious prosperity. Leaning back in his seat, he watchcd the stream of pallid men and women flow by 1)C'- yond the dusty trees. Huge, clanging cars 1 swept along the embankment, rao^jr-eahs hooted, and he found these things now and strange, for London had changed in Óe last eight yearr* By-and-bye. however, he rlnrud j to his feet as a man and wn.ni approachcd him, walking side by s>d-\ T f •■ — looked like a fairly i woruaa J was well and quietly d;-c .c>L lo; ffi:1; who remembered her a y«.aand n a::d mischievous, was astonished vo see 1 she had grown stouter, and look, t niairo.dy and staid. In another moment they saw him, and the woman broke into a cry of surprise and pleasure, while her companion came forward with outstretched hand. "Harry Elliot, by all that's wonderful:" he said. "Tom!" said Elliot. "The very man I meant to look up on Monday. I guessed be out of the office on Saturday after- noon." Then he shook hands with the woman. "It's good to sce you, Minnie; though you re presumably Mrs. Gravsou now? "That ?n been the case for nearly eight years. she answ ered with a smde. "We have two children—the boy's called Harry." Elliot looked at her rather sharply, and then at the man, who smiled. Yes," said the latter. "She knows that, we never nave been married if it hadn t been for you. and I really believe she's grate- ful." k. Of course I am," his wife hro C Ill. "Though I may have been foolish, I was very fond of Tom, and while he has his faults, the rCdt of you, we still get on satisfac- torily." Then her manner changed. H Vfc owe 'all that to you. if- you hadn't taken the blame upon yourself when he nearly killed that votuig landowner, Winter, he'd have lost his situation and had to run away." Pshaw said Harry. I suppose he's now 13 an agar of the Elliot Shipping Com- pany, or whatever my distinguished relative has reconstructed his business into?" Xo. Wat son got thu.t post." "Tom dwuld have had it. He's a more capable mar1." A slight- frown, which sugge.scod tnat this was a grievance, appeared on Grayson's face. 1 mu t confess that I entertained the same idea," he But where have you come from, and where have you been?" Canada,—the Pacific Slope. Arrived two days ago, and expect to stay awhile, perhaps altogether. But I've no end of things to asK. Where are you going? To B'.ackfriars Station, to see some frier,ds out <>f town." Wire them you've been stopped," said Ha rry. Come and have a talk at my hotel. It's about time for your English afternoon tea.. but have dinner later and go to a theatre. They went with him, and shortly afterward3 he uSHered them into a room in a palatial hotel, where he found them seais at a. table. I Minnie Grayson glanced at the rows of pil- lars with gilded cornices, the luxurious furni- | ture. and the deft waiter who carried in a I set out with silver. You have evidently fallen on your feet, I Ilari r. she re/narked. Elliott laid a hand that was hard sinewy and scarred upon the table. I worked for it. You don't get dollars easiiy out yonder, unless you have a good many to begin with. I had, if I remember, about five pounds." Then he laughed as Minnie poured out the tea. Any way. there is a difference. Our last festival was held in an A B C. But I want to hear all about you. Please begin." "There isn't much to tell," said Grayson. "W inter wasn't dangerously injured, and, as you had cleared out, everybody laid the blame on you. I"—and he hesitated—"let them. You know you made me promise; but I feel asha*n?d still when I think of it." Harry slopped hiirt. Now for the on that subject. I was sick of Arnold's office, and he was always a little down on me I believe he'd had some quarrel with my father, of which more by-and-bye. Well, I'd meant to clear out, anyway, and when I saw Winter hurt it struck me I might as well do it then. It cost me nothing; but if I'd stayed yon would, no doubt, have been arrested. Arnold would have turned you out; and you might never have got Minnie. I'd a great admiration for her in those days." He turned to Mrs. G rav-son smiling. "I have it still." Well," Grayson, somebody dis- covered that I was mixed up in the thing, hut Winter wouldn't prosecute—it was very de- cent of him—and Arnold seemed to have de- cided against you right off. He got Wfatson — you were never friends—to find out every- thing he could to your discredit, and the fellow didn't disappoint him. I stayed on, and though I ha.ven't got ahead very far Min- nie and I have been fairly comfortable. That's my tale. I'm anxious for yours." Harry's face grew rather grim. "I meant to tell it you but nobody, especially your em- ployer, is to hear a word of it. I landed in Canada an almost penniless man, and had to work in a way which at the beginning nearly took all the courage out of me. I tried to keep pace with strong men in a speeded-up saw- mill, where you had to stand to it or drop, in which case the machinery was ready to rip your fingers off. I drove half-broken horses; carried loads a E us ton porter wouldn't care to tackle round portages over slippery rock; and hung out from trestle bridges, holding spikes for the carpenters in half-frozen hands, with the certainty of going down into a snow-fed river if I couldn't stick on. StiU, I saved a few dollars, and went up with the Iilondyke rush—and that isn't nice to remem- ber. Some of the rest were drowned in the' rivers, some died in the snow, but I struck a claim that turned out moderately profitable. I sold out, came down, and invested in a. British Col imbian silver-lead mine. One thing led to another, and now I suppose I'm comfortably well off." He paused a moment. So much for that part of the story I must ask your close ai. tention to the rest. But first, about my father. I never knew he was bringing no gold- seekers bound for the Klondyke, until his snip went down. This was my first intimation." Me took out a frayed newspaper cutting and then looked round the room. It was almost empty; nobody sat near them, and he laid the cutting in Grayson's hand. It related the loss of the British steamer Calabria in the North Pacific, during a voy- age from an Alaskan port to Portland, Oregon, with returning miners on board. She struck a reef in hazy weather and sank in five minutes, drowning a number of her passen- gers. The narratives of two survivors were given, and they agreed that while the engines were not working satisfactorily the blame was the skipper's. He had, they testified, been in the habit of drinking freely with the minors, and it was hinted that he went up to the bridge unfit for duty after an altercation with bis engineer. The whole account was strongly hostile to the captain, and it appeared that he was regarded with general execration, though he had made the only amend possible by going down with his ship. Yes," said Grayson, reluctantly; "it's substantially correct." Harry smiled in a grim fashion. The offi- cial inquiry confirmed it. The engineer. Salter, testified to my father's condition, and nobody tried to shake his story. I'll ask one question now. The Calabria was an old boat and costly in coal. WTas she written down to her depreciated value in the company's book8 —and was .she insured? Grayson hesitated; but his wife looked ehrpy at him. You must answer, Tom." We)I, said Grayson. with obvious reluc- tance, she stoo'd at a value she never fetch, and she was intJred-to the hilt." Arnold Elliot made no attempt to clear his captain—and cousin's—name?" "Hide nothing, Tom," Minnie broke in. He made none. The insurance was paid, and lie let tilings go." Harry clenched a hard, brown hand, and his face grew very "tern. "My father v. as a fine seaman; a brave, kind-hearted man; and all down the Pacific Slope his name was branded as a drunkard who flung away the lives entrusted to him. There are widow;> I who think of him as a murderer, and men who'd won gold by toil beyond description in ¡ the ie ar.d snow, and had no time to save it when the C.?abrht struck, who hate his very memory. Well, that's wrong; all wrong from the lwinning, and "—he struck the table a smashing blow—" somebody responsible has got to pay." There was a few moments' impressive silence, during which lie sat still, shaking with Dassion. Minnie watchprl him with onpr Bvr/ipatny, out uravson loo uect troimieo. Then Ilarry spoke again. "Listen," lie said, more calmly; "and re- member. After I'd sold mv claim I met r. KIondyke prospector. He'd seen hiw g()!(I go down with the wreck, but he was fair, and before he knew who I was he gave me his version of the story. The Calabria's engines bad twice stoppeti at awkward places where my father saved the ship from going ashore. They were running badly o.'i the day she was lost. Captain Jack did drink with the miners, but never too much, and when the ship St)-tieli he was perfectly sober. That wasn't the general tale, but can you expect justice from men wlios^ ruin has driven them desperate? Harry paused before It(! -eerlefl. An attempt at salvage had fai.ed, but I had dollars to spare, and the prospector still held a share in a profitable claim. He found two other passengers similarly situated, and we chartered ii..Chooiier-did I tell you I I i worked as engine-room hand and deck hand on the Canadian lakes? Weil, we did thk.is more cheaply than the salvors, and stayed bv the wreck longer. We could wait for *t weather and the lowest tides, and wh:n t;, diver went down I generally went with him. "What did you fiuti?" Graysoll :(jk(;d. eager interest. I irst, that the shin's s*:fe, wliere s<n; <. the.miners' gold had been stowed, wi-,s and nearly empty. Secondly, that the engines been mishandled—with a purpose; 1 trou.nk* y.n with mechanical details. In itie third place- chough this is of lc.-< moment—v,e reecveied enough gold, wh:e': was restored to iis < .v»er«T'or their heirs, to pay for the ventr- on our salvors' share." Gray.sou look.. fnooghtful. "You have unpleasant fancies that have been 1;1 --ty mind some time," he sni-i. "But go 011. iiie salving' must have been difficult work." "Difficult hardly describes it. The reef lies open to the roll of • Pacific, in a region of almost perpetual gale and mist. We hadn't a proper outfit LIP schooner was small and old; and for days together we could scarcely hold her there with the last fathom of cable out, riding, spray-swept, over the big grey seas. Often we had.-io up-sail p nd run for shelter with flooded decks and the galley fire drowned out. Dry clothes were an un- known luxury '.t was seldom that much cook- ing could be done; and the wreck moved and worked in the run of tide. We could only get down to her at the slackest of the stream." He broke off abruptly, and Grayson looked at him with a curious expression. You said you were coming to see me:" Ycs"ziid Harry. What we discovered at the wreck was not made hno" n. My name wasn't mentioned, and the whole thing was merely supposed to be an attempt to rccover some of the passengers' gold. I'd better sav that at the iiiorrf-,ijt; i'i!) i!,t in a position to prove the most important of the conclusion* I've arrived at. I'm searching for some infor- mntion, and I think you can help me." "This might turn :t a serious thing for Tom," Minnie broke i i. m not likely to ask him to do anything actually dishonourable or to compromise him with |iis employer, but if by any unforeseen chance it should cost him his situation I'll find hiin another." Minnie turned to her husband. Put your self in his hands. Tom. Id 10.oner trust Harry than Mr. Elliot." Grayson made a sign of agreement, and Harry once more gla::cvd round the room. Its otjipr occupants had and, except for himself and his companion- it "3. empty. f "Thanks," he said. "I must tell you that my one object is to clear my father's name, and the first step is to find the engineer, Haiter. You ca? probably give me some litt'e i t c. in that. Whatever the thing costs mo- liell) ii-t must be (bnc." or rose with a shake of ins !'houlder and A smile. "WTe'll let the matter drop ill the meantime, and go out and see the town. We'll have dinner here before the theatres open. He summoned a waiter, and when he had given him a few instructions they went out together.