casement troubled him, and from
time to time he turned his eyes uneasily toward it. But what need could
there be of a curtain, when they were a mile away from any habitation,
and where no road crossed the moor, except the rugged green pathway,
worn into deep ruts by old Marlowe's own wagon? Yet as if touched by
some vague sympathy with him, Phebe rose, and pinned one of her large
rough working-aprons across it.

"Phebe," he said, as she stepped softly back to her seat, "you and I
have been friends a long time; and your father and I have been friends
all my life. Do you recollect me staying here a whole week when I was a
school-boy?"

"Yes," she answered, her eyes glistening in the dusky light; "but for
you I should have known nothing, only what work had to be done for
father. You taught me my alphabet that week, and the hymns I have said
every night since then before I go to sleep. You helped me to teach
myself painting; and if I ever paint a picture worth looking at it will
be your doing."

"No, no; you are a born artist, Phebe Marlowe," he said, "though perhaps
the world may never know it. But being such friends as you say, I will
trust you. Do you think me worthy of trust, true and honest as a man
should be, Phebe?"

"As true and honest as the day," she cried, with eager emphasis.

"And a Christian?" he added, in a lower voice.

"Yes," she answered, "I do not know a Christian if you are not one."

"That is the sting of it," he groaned; "true, and honest, and a
Christian! And yet, Phebe, if I were taken by the police to-night, or if
I be taken by them to-morrow, I shall be lodged in Riversborough jail,
and tried before a jury of my towns-people at the assizes next month."

"No, it is impossible!" she cried, stretching out her brown,
hard-working hand, and laying it on his white and shapely one, which had
never known toil.

"You would not send me to jail," he said, "I know that well enough. But
I deserve it, my poor girl. They would find me guilty and sentence me to
a convict prison. I saw Dartmoor prison on my wedding journey with
Felicita, Heaven help me! She liked the wild, solitary moor, with its
great tors and its desolate stillness, and one day we went near to the
prison. Those grim walls seemed to take possession of me; I felt
oppressed and crushed by them. I could not forget them for days after,
even with Felicita by my side."

His voice trembled as he spoke, and a quiver ran through his whole
fram