She could get no further. Covering her eyes with one hand, by an

effort of repression she wept a silent trickle, without a sigh or sob.

Winterborne took her other hand. "What has happened?" he said.

"He has come."

There was a stillness as of death, till Winterborne asked, "You mean

this, Grace--that I am to help you to get away?"

"Yes," said she. "Appearance is no matter, when the reality is right.

I have said to myself I can trust you."

Giles knew from this that she did not suspect his treachery--if it

could be called such--earlier in the summer, when they met for the last

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time as lovers; and in the intensity of his contrition for that tender

wrong, he determined to deserve her faith now at least, and so wipe out

that reproach from his conscience. "I'll come at once," he said.

"I'll light a lantern."

He unhooked a dark-lantern from a nail under the eaves and she did not

notice how his hand shook with the slight strain, or dream that in

making this offer he was taxing a convalescence which could ill afford

such self-sacrifice. The lantern was lit, and they started.




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