hall I
say?--a matter of such great concern to you. Remember that we had never
mentioned his name since we left England, and I could not assume that
the old friendly interest in him survived."

"I do not blame you, dear," said Lettice faintly. "I do not blame
Sydney--unless it is for prosecuting him. I cannot think or reason about
it--I can only feel; and I suppose that what I feel amounts to my own
condemnation."

"Don't talk of condemnation! Your kind heart makes you loyal to everyone
whom you have called a friend--and what can be more natural? I was
terribly grieved for the unfortunate man when I heard of the trouble he
had brought on himself. But we cannot bear each other's sorrows in this
world. Each one must reap as he has sown."

"And do you think that Alan has sown what he is reaping? Do you believe
that he stabbed his wife?"

"My dear, I must believe it. Everyone believes it."

"Alan!" said Lettice, half raising her hand, and gazing out through the
open window, over the banks of the yellow-flowing Arno, with a look of
ineffable trust and tenderness in her face, "Alan, did you try to kill
the woman who has cursed and degraded you? Did you strike her once in
return for her thousand malicious blows? Did you so much as wish her ill
to gratify your anger and revenge? No!--there is one, at least, who does
not believe you guilty of this crime!"

"Lettice, darling!"

"I hear no voice but that of Alan, calling to me from his prison cell."
She sprang to her feet and stood as if listening to a far-off call.

"Lettice, for Heaven's sake, do not give way to delusions. Think of
those who love you best, who will be in despair if ill should befall
you."

"Yes, I will think of those who love me best! I must go to him. Dear
Mrs. Hartley, I am not losing my senses, but the feeling is so strong
upon me that I have no power to resist it. I must go to Alan."

"My child, consider! You cannot go to him. He is in prison."

"I will go and live at the gates until he comes out."

"You must not talk like this. I cannot let you go--you, a woman! What
would the world think of you?"

"What does the world think of him? It says he is guilty--when I know
that he is not!"

"You cannot know, Lettice. All that was proved against him is that in
some way or other, goaded by her reproaches, he stabbed her with his
dagger. But that was proved, and you cannot get over it. I can quite
believe that he is more unfortunate than maliciously