ad died, for then I might still have cherished her memory.
It's too late. She's become a castaway now.'

He paused. From a state of deep and querulous despondency, he gradually
recovered composure; then his mood grew sterner and sterner; until his
compressed lips and flashing eye showed that he had passed from one
extreme to the other.

'Is there nothing left to live for?' exclaimed he; '_nothing_ left? One
thing can yet be done. I must ascertain her disgrace beyond a doubt. Then
atonement can and shall be made, or _he_ had better never have been born!'

Rust stood up, with an expression of bold, honest indignation, such as he
had rarely worn, stamped on every feature. '_This_ must be accomplished,'
said he. 'Everything else must be abandoned: _this_ done, let me die; for
I cannot love her as I did, and I might hate her: Better die!'

CHAPTER TWENTY-THIRD.

Richard Holmes, Esq. was sitting in his office, two days after the events
narrated in the last chapter, with his nose within a few inches of a
law-book which rested on his knees, when he was aroused by the opening of
the door, and the entrance of a man. Holmes was so much out of the world,
and out of the current of business, that he did what a practitioner at the
bar of his age and standing rarely does; that is, he looked up without
waiting till he was addressed.

'Ah, Harson?--it's you, is it?' said he, laying aside his book, but
without rising.

Harry walked up, shook hands with him, and seated himself.

'We've been hard at work, and have made some progress,' said he, taking
off his hat, and placing it on the table. 'We've got the woman.'

'What woman?'

'Blossom,' replied Harson; 'I've brought her here to answer for herself.
She was in Rust's employ, and received the children from him. She's
below.'

'What news of the boy?' inquired Holmes.

'Grosket is after him. He knows where he is. Would you like to see the
woman?'

'It would be as well,' said Holmes, drumming on the table. 'We'll hear
what she has to say. Does she communicate what she knows willingly or
under compulsion?'

'She's not very talkative;' answered Harson, 'and seems terribly afraid of
Rust.'

'I think we can squeeze the truth out of her,' replied Holmes. 'Bring her
up.'

Harson went out, and in a few minutes reaeppeared with Mrs. Blossom at his
heels. The lawyer pointed to a chair, into which the lady sank, apparently
in a state of great exhaustion and agitation; for she moa