but there was no report, and she was laying the paper down
when her eye caught a familiar name in a paragraph. She read the few
lines in a kind of stupor, with a sense of unreality; and when she had
finished reading she stood with the paper gripped in her hand, and
staring stupidly before her.

The paragraph ran thus:--

"We regret to announce the death of Mr. William Bishop, the
well-known antiquarian, which occurred suddenly at his country
residence early this morning."

Slowly through her stupor broke the realization that she had been thrust
back into the ranks of the unemployed, that only a few shillings stood
between her and utter destitution.

CHAPTER VI

Strangely enough, Dene's spirits seemed lightened by the scene with
Heyton; perhaps he had found that peculiar satisfaction which comes to
all of us when we have relieved our minds by telling a man who has
behaved badly and injured us what we think of him. But this hypothesis
does not altogether account for the uplifting of Dene's mind. He had
been going to commit suicide, because he was assured that everybody
would regard him as one of the meanest of creatures, a forger and passer
of a "stumer" cheque; but suddenly, at the tragical moment, an angel, in
the guise of a young girl, had appeared, snatched the revolver from his
hand, and saved him by just telling him that she believed him innocent.

It seemed to him that this guardian angel of his was hovering about him
still; that it was incumbent upon him to carry out his pact with her,
and to escape the fate that had threatened him, and, indeed, threatened
him still. So centred were his thoughts on this girl, whose very name he
did not know, so buoyed up was he by her wonderful goodness to him, that
he had to remind himself he was still in danger. Perhaps, after all,
that fact was not without its compensations; for Youth, when it goes
with strength, and a clear brain, loves adventure, and enjoys pitting
itself against any kind of foe. Here was he, an innocent man, flying
from Injustice; he was to find out, perhaps for the first time in his
life, what his wits were worth.

As he walked quickly, but not too hurriedly, through the shady streets
towards the river, he considered the situation. If they were keen on the
pursuit, the police would no doubt already have set a watch at the
various ports; and it would be useless for him to attempt to reach the
Continent; besides, he had not suff