ded. But a razor and a pot of black dye would soon put that to
rights. Yes, he might attempt my murder. But do not let us saddle him
with a crime of which he is guiltless. Anne killed the girl. I assure
you this is the truth."

"I don't believe it," cried Giles fiercely.

"Nevertheless"--Franklin paused and then came forward swiftly to place a
sympathetic hand on the young man's shoulder--"I heard her say so
myself. She confessed to me that she had met you, and seemed much
agitated. Then she ran out of this room to another. Fearing she was ill,
I followed, and found her on her knees praying. She said aloud that she
had deceived you, stating that she could not bear to lose your love by
proclaiming herself a murderess."

"No, no; I won't listen." Giles closed his ears.

"Be a man, Mr. Ware. Anne is ill now. She confessed the truth to me, and
then fled to her bedroom. This morning she was very ill, as my daughter
Portia assured me. Portia is out of the house. If you will come with me,
you will hear the truth from Anne herself. She is so ill that she will
not try to deceive you now. But if she does confess, you must promise
not to give her up to the police. She is suffering agonies, poor child!"

"I'll come at once," said Giles bravely, starting to his feet. And it
was brave of him, for he dreaded the truth. "If she confesses this,
I'll go away and never see her again. The police--ah, you needn't think
I would give her up to the police. But if she is guilty (and I can't
believe such a thing of her) I'll tear her out of my heart. But it's
impossible, impossible!"

Franklin looked at him with a pitying smile as he hid his face in his
hands. Then he touched him on the shoulder and led the way along a
passage towards the back part of the house. At a door at the end he
paused. "The room is rather dark. You won't see her clearly," he said,
"but you will know her by her voice."

"I would know her anyway," cried Giles fiercely, and tormented beyond
endurance.

Franklin gave him another glance, as though asking him to brace himself
for the ordeal, and then opened the door. He showed small mercy in
announcing Ware's coming. "Anne, here is Mr. Ware come to see you. Tell
him the truth."

The room was not very large, and was enveloped in a semi-gloom. The
blind was pulled down, and the curtains were drawn. The bed was near the
window, and on it lay Anne in a white dress. She was lying on the bed
with a rug thrown over her fee