paper from her hand. Bertie had written, "I
find I cannot be back this afternoon, probably not till to-morrow. Don't
expect me till you see me, and don't be anxious about me. All right.--Your
H.L."

"How did you get this?" he asked, turning it uneasily in his fingers.

"A boy brought it from the station not half an hour after he went."

Percival was silent. A sudden certainty had sprung up in his mind, and it
made any attempt at reassuring her little better than a lie. Yet he felt
as if his certainty were altogether unfounded. He could assign no reason
for it. The truth was, that Bertie himself was the reason, and Percival
knew him better than he had supposed.

"Mr. Thorne," said Judith, "don't you hate me for what I've said? Surely
you must. Miss Crawford doesn't dream that Bertie has anything to do with
this. And you didn't, for I watched your eyes: you never would have
thought of him but for me. It is I, his own sister, who have hinted it. He
has nobody but me, and when his back is turned I accuse him of being so
base, so cruel, so mercenary, that--" She stopped and tried to steady her
voice. Suddenly she turned and pointed to the door: "And if he came in
there now, this minute--oh, Bertie, my Bertie, if you _would_!--if he
stood there now, I should have slandered him without a shadow of proof.
Oh, it is odious, horrible! The one in all the world who should have clung
to him and believed in him, and I have thought this of him! Say it is
horrible, unnatural--reproach me--leave me! Oh, my God! you can't."

And in truth Percival stood mute and grave, holding the shred of paper in
his hand and making no sign through all the questioning pauses in her
words. But her last appeal roused him. "No," he said gently, "I can't
reproach you. If you are the first to think this, don't I know that you
will be the one to hope and pray when others give up?" He took her hands
in his: she suffered him to do what he would. "How should Miss Crawford
think of him?" he said. "Pray God we may be mistaken, and if Bertie comes
back can we not keep silence for ever?"

"I could not look him in the face."

"Tell me all," said Thorne. "Where did he say he was going? Tell me
everything. If you are calm and if we lose no time, we may unravel this
mystery and clear Bertie altogether before any harm is done. As you say,
there is no shadow of proof. Miss Nash may have gone away alone:
school-girls have silly fancies. Or perhaps some accident on t