secret from you. You know the secret now."

There he stopped. I put a question to him--the first that I had asked
yet.

"Had you or your brother any fear at that time of the charge which has
since been brought against you?" I said.

"No such thought entered our heads, sir," Ambrose answered. "How could
_we_ foresee that the neighbors would search the kiln, and say what
they have said of us? All we feared was, that the old man might hear of
the quarrel, and be bitterer against us than ever. I was the more
anxious of the two to keep things secret, because I had Naomi to
consider as well as the old man. Put yourself in my place, and you will
own, sir, that the prospect at home was not a pleasant one for _me_, if
John Jago really kept away from the farm, and if it came out that it
was all my doing."

(This was certainly an explanation of his conduct; but it was not
satisfactory to my mind.)

"As _you_ believe, then," I went on, "John Jago has carried out his
threat of not returning to the farm? According to you, he is now alive,
and in hiding somewhere?"

"Certainly!" said Ambrose.

"Certainly!" repeated Naomi.

"Do you believe the report that he was seen traveling on the railway to
New York?"

"I believe it firmly, sir; and, what is more, I believe I was on his
track. I was only too anxious to find him; and I say I could have found
him if they would have let me stay in New York."

I looked at Naomi.

"I believe it too," she said. "John Jago is keeping away."

"Do you suppose he is afraid of Ambrose and Silas?"

She hesitated.

"He _may_ be afraid of them," she replied, with a strong emphasis on
the word "may."

"But you don't think it likely?"

She hesitated again. I pressed her again.

"Do you think there is any other motive for his absence?"

Her eyes dropped to the floor. She answered obstinately, almost
doggedly,

"I can't say."

I addressed myself to Ambrose.

"Have you anything more to tell us?" I asked.

"No," he said. "I have told you all I know about it."

I rose to speak to the lawyer whose services I had retained. He had
helped us to get the order of admission, and he had accompanied us to
the prison. Seated apart he had kept silence throughout, attentively
watching the effect of Ambrose Meadowcroft's narrative on the officers
of the prison and on me.

"Is this the defense?" I inquired, in a whisper.

"This is the defense, Mr. Lefrank. What do you think, between
ourselves?"