g thought from her mind.... And
there was the murder of the caretaker! Would the public not believe her
an accomplice, by consent at least, in that forcible holding of him to
the engine?

Ethel's thoughts veered to Roy again. But, now, there was something of
comfort in her musing. It occurred to her that he at least would believe
the truth, though all the rest of the world should mock at it as a lie.
Besides, there was the message she had thrown into the sea for him,
which she had seen picked up by the fisherman. There was no doubt in her
mind now that Roy had received it. There came a little glow of courage
in her heart as she reflected that even at this very moment he was
searching desperately for her.... Had she been outside the cabin just
then, she might have seen the lights of _The Hialdo_, on which her lover
was being carried to Beaufort, there to receive the news of her having
left Ichabod's Island alive.

A new courage for herself left her free to feel compassion toward the
miserable being who had done her such grievous wrong. She could guess in
some measure from the man's lined and haggard face and twitching body
how great was his suffering and remorse. From the fact that he had made
such a full confession of his guilt, she knew that he would make every
restitution in his power. Sympathy for him, added to sympathy for
herself, proved too much for her self-restraint. Woman-like, she hid her
face in her arms outstretched on the table, and wept.

After a little while, the fit of weeping ended. The girl brushed away
the tears, and again sat erect. Then, for a long time, neither she nor
the man opposite her moved or spoke. What, indeed, was there for her to
say to him who had made her his victim? She had not the heart to
reproach him. She could find no word of comfort. It seemed to her that
there could be no assuagement of his misery--that he were better dead.
If he lived, he must be a fugitive from justice, or, if captured, he
must be tried and condemned for murder. Or he might end his days in a
mad-house. Surely, death were preferable.

But Ethel knew that Doctor Garnet, despite her earlier belief, was not
mad. Notwithstanding the tortures he endured, his narrative to her had
revealed a mind lucid and sane. She wondered suddenly if, after all, it
might be possible somehow to save him from the law's penalty? Yet, the
damning evidence of the murdered man in the wreck of the yacht could not
be concealed. The cons