seemed to be born of agony. "I would rather face all the police and
the magistrates of London than you! They will have no difficulty about
finding me. If I cannot stay here, I will go back to Madame's house."

"Which you will find closed to you," said Flossy. "After the story that
she has heard, Madame della Scala refuses to receive you there again.
You seem to think very little of your father's crime, Miss Westwood; but
you will not find society condone it so easily."

Cynthia's face flushed hotly, but she did not reply.

"You had better go away," said Mrs. Vane, leaning forward and speaking
almost in a whisper. "Go, and tell no one where you are going--it will
be better for you. The police will be here before very long, and
possibly they may arrest you."

"I do not think they can do that. No, I shall not hide myself."

"It would be safer for your father," said Flossy, almost inaudibly.
"Listen--I will make a bargain with you. If you go, I will hide part of
my own knowledge--I will not let the woman Meldreth describe him
accurately--I will help you to put the detectives off the track; and, in
return, you will go away at once--where I care not--and never see Hubert
again. You may save your father then."

"I will make no bargain with you," said Cynthia solemnly. She looked
straight into the white, subtle face--straight into the velvet-brown
languorous eyes, full now of a secret fear. "You forget that God
protects the innocent and punishes the guilty. I will stay with Hubert;
and God will defend my father and the right."

"Your father will be hanged yet," said Flossy, turning away restlessly.
It was her only answer to the girl's courageous words.

CHAPTER XLI.

A little bustle was heard outside the door; and then the doctor came in.
He was a middle-aged man, tall, spare, thoughtful-looking, a little
abrupt in manner, but with a kindly face. He had not advanced two steps
into the room before he stopped short, held up his hand, and said--

"Hallo--what's that?"

It was the patient's voice again uplifted in snatches of delirious talk.

"Cynthia!" they distinctly heard him calling. "Where's Cynthia? Tell
Cynthia that she must come!"

"And why are you not there?" said Doctor Middlemass, darting his finger
in Cynthia's direction. "Why don't you go to him at once? It's madness
to let him cry out like that!"

Cynthia's look was piteous; but for the moment she did not move.

"Would it not be better for a