ld
be hard to say: but he was a man who honestly tried to do his best.

"I will try, my dear lady," he said, making a great resolution. Mrs.
Goddard took his hand and pressed it in both of hers, and the long
restrained tears flowed fast and softly over her worn cheeks. For some
moments neither spoke.

"If you cannot save both--you must save--Mr. Juxon," she said at last,
breathing the words rather than speaking them.

The vicar knew or guessed what it must cost her to hint that her husband
might be captured. He recognised that the only way in which he could
contribute towards the escape of the convict was by not revealing his
hiding-place, and he accordingly refrained from asking where he was
concealed. He shuddered as he thought that Goddard might be lying hidden
in the cottage itself, for all he could tell, but he was quite sure that
he ought not to know it. So long as he did not know where the forger was,
it was easy to hold his peace; but if once he knew, the vicar was not
capable of denying the knowledge. He had never told a lie in his life.

"I will try," he repeated; and growing calmer, he added, "You are
quite sure this was not an empty threat, my dear friend? Was there any
reason--a--I mean to say, had this unfortunate man ever known Mr. Juxon?"

"Oh no!" answered Mrs. Goddard, sinking back into her chair. "He never
knew him." Her tears were still flowing but she no longer sobbed aloud;
it had been a relief to her overwrought and sensitive temperament to give
way to the fit of weeping. She actually felt better, though ten minutes
earlier she would not have believed it possible.

"Then--why?" asked Mr. Ambrose, hesitating.

"My poor husband was a very jealous man," she answered. "I accidentally
told him that the cottage belonged to Mr. Juxon and yesterday--do you
remember? You walked on with Mr. Juxon beyond the turning, and then he
came back to see me--to tell me of my husband's escape. Walter saw that
and--and he thought, I suppose--that Mr. Juxon did not want you to see
him coming here."

"But Mr. Juxon had just promised me to go and see you," said the honest
vicar.

"Yes," said poor Mrs. Goddard, beginning to sob again, "but Walter--my
husband--thinks that I--I care for Mr. Juxon--he is so jealous," cried
she, again covering her face with her hands. The starting tears trickled
through her fingers and fell upon her black dress. She was ashamed, this
time, for she hated even to speak of such a possib