of him that you are afraid? If you
are----"

"Hush!" she cried, raising her hand in warning. "Hush!" And then, "You
did not--hear anything?" she asked. For an instant her eyes met his.

"No." He met her look, puzzled; and, obeying her gesture, he listened
afresh. "No, I heard nothing. But----"

He heard nothing even now, nothing; but whatever it was sharpened her
hearing to an abnormal pitch, it was clear that she did. She was on her
feet; with a startled cry she was round the table and half-way across
the room, while he stared, the word suspended on his lips. A second, and
her hand was on the latch of the staircase door. Then as she opened it,
he sprang forward to accompany her, to help her, to protect her if
necessary. "Let me come!" he said. "Let me help you. Whatever it is, I
can do something."

She turned on him fiercely. "Go back!" she said. All the confidence,
the gentleness, the docility of the last three days were gone; and in
their place suspicion glared at him from eyes grown spiteful as a cat's.
"Go back!" she repeated. "I do not want you! I do not want any one, or
any help! Or any protection! Go, do you hear, and let me be!"

As she ceased to speak, a sound from above stairs--a sound which this
time, the door being open, did reach his ears, froze the words on his
lips. It was the sound of a voice, yet no common voice, Heaven be
thanked! A moment she continued to confront him, her face one mute,
despairing denial! Then she slammed the door in his teeth, and he heard
her panting breath and fleeing footsteps speed up the stairs and along
the passage, and--more faintly now--he heard her ascend the upper
flight. Then--silence.

Silence! But he had heard enough. He paused a moment irresolute,
uncertain, his hand raised to the latch. Then the hand fell to his side,
he turned, and went softly--very softly back to the hearth. The
firelight playing on his face showed it much moved; moved and softened
almost to the semblance of a woman's. For there were tears in his
eyes--eyes singularly bright; and his features worked, as if he had some
ado to repress a sob. In truth he had. In a breath, in the time it takes
to utter a single sound, he had hit on the secret, he had come to the
bottom of the mystery, he had learnt that which Basterga, favoured by
the position of his room on the upper floor, had learned two months
before, that which Grio might have learned, had he been anything but the
dull gross toper he was!