didn't--I mean--I let John hear about it--and he told Josiah."

He listened. Here was another Mrs. Ann. There was in Ann at times a
bewildering childlike simplicity with remarkable intelligence--a
combination to be found in some of the nobler types of womanhood. He made
no remark upon her way of betraying the trust implied in George Grey's
commonplace confession.

"So, then, my dear, John went and gave the man a warning?"

"Yes, I would have gone, but it was at night and I thought it better to
let John see him. How he did it I did not want to know--I preferred to
know nothing about it."

This last sentence so appealed to Penhallow's not very ready sense of
humour that he felt it needful to control his mirth as he saw her
watching earnestness. "Grey, I presume, called on that rascal Swallow,
Mr. Woodburn is sent for, and meanwhile Josiah is told and wisely runs
away. He will never be caught. Anything else, my dear?"

"Yes, I said to George that we would buy Josiah's freedom--what amuses
you, James?" He was smiling.

"Oh, the idea of buying a man's power to go and come, when he has
been his own master for years. You were right, but it seems that you
failed--or, so I infer."

"Yes. He said Mr. Woodburn was still angry and always had considered
Josiah wickedly ungrateful." Penhallow looked at his wife. Her sense of
the comedies of life was sometimes beyond his comprehension, but now--now
was she not a little bit, half consciously, of the defrauded master's
opinion?

"And so, when that failed, you went to bank and drew out the poor
fellow's savings?" He meant to hear the whole story. There was worse yet,
and he was sure she would speak of it. But now she was her courageous
self and desired to confess her share in the matter. "Of course, he had
to have money, Ann."

She wanted to get through with this, the most unpleasant part of the
matter. "I want to tell you," she said. "I drew out his money with a
cheque John made out and Josiah signed. John took him his two hundred
dollars, as he knew where Josiah would hide--I--I did not want to know."

Her large part in this perilous business began to trouble the Squire. His
face had long been to her an open book, and she saw in his silence the
man's annoyance. She added instantly, "I could not let John draw it--and
Josiah would not--he was too scared. He had to have his money. Was I
wrong--was I foolish, James?"

"No--you were right. The cheque was in John's handwriting.