For an instant Henderson turned ghastly pale, as this terrible accusation reached his ears, and then, with a scream of rage, he sprang forward and struck John Temple a violent blow on the chest. But he had met his match. For the next moment a swift, hammer-like thud from John's clenched fist hit his brow, and he reeled back, and striking his head as he did so against the sharp corner of the writing table, he fell heavily on the floor. Mrs. Temple gave a cry, and both Mr. Temple and Mr. Churchill ran forward to his assistance. They lifted up his head, but he was seemingly unconscious, and a sudden fear darted into the squire's heart. "He--is not dead," he said, falteringly. "What matter if he is?" said John Temple, still fiercely; and then without another word he turned and left the room, while the others raised Henderson on a couch, and Mrs. Temple violently rang the bell for further help. In the meantime John Temple had gone to his own rooms, and for a moment stood there, panting still from his recent encounter, thinking how he should act. But his hesitation was very brief. He would go to May; in her hands alone now lay the course of their future lives. "If she loves me as I love her, we shall not part," he thought; "the world is wide." This was his decision, and he quickly acted on it. He pulled out a portmanteau, and was thrusting into it some things that he would require, when a rap sounded at his sitting-room door, and the next moment Mrs. Temple, pale and excited, entered the room. In a second she saw the preparations for his departure. "You are going away?" she said, quickly. "Do you think I would stay?" he answered, scornfully. Mrs. Temple made no answer; she stood there looking at him, and a strange revulsion of feeling swept through her breast. "I--I do not want to drive you away," she said. "Yet you have done so," answered John Temple, looking up at her, for he was kneeling on the ground, packing his portmanteau. "But for you this never would have happened." Mrs. Temple's tall form swayed restlessly, and her pale, handsome face quivered. "I hated to think," she said, with sudden passion, "of your degrading yourself so." "I have not done so," replied John Temple, rising to his feet and looking at her steadily. "You have! This girl should have been nothing to you, nothing! And if in some hour of madness you had been betrayed into any folly, if you had trusted me I would have helped you if I could." "I have been betrayed into nothing," answered John, coldly; "whatever I have done is by my own will." Mrs. Temple began walking restlessly up and down the room, and then she suddenly stopped before John. "You came here," she began; "you took my boy's place--" "You know how deeply I grieved for you," said John Temple; "in everything I wished to consider you."