Audrey's heart died within her. What had befallen her half-angelic guardian? Was her confidence once more given amiss? If he had failed her, who indeed could she trust? Astonished and alarmed, she looked from one to the other. Where could she go? She was once more as helpless and unfriended as she had been before Mr. Rogers had found her. Nay, she was even in some ways in a worst plight; her self-reliance and self-confidence were shaken, for her calmer reason told her that Mr. Marshman's comments on her adventurous journey were perfectly just, that her grandfather would have said the same, though in more polished terms, and that no words at all would have been equal to expressing Madam Isham's horror at such an unconventional proceeding. That silent night-ride had calmed her spirits, and she could judge her life with a curious sense of detachment, as though she had risen for a while to look down on it from some starry height. She read her own heart with a new clear-sightedness, and she knew now that it was not the dictatorial manner or the cruel candour of Mr. Marshman that was the true cause of the wild revolt that had filled her soul. She had discovered why the thought of such a usual thing as an arranged marriage with Richard Harrison had stung her so bitterly, why the bare thought that he might have overheard the brutal plainness of Mr. Marshman's words brought back the wild desire to fly anywhere, so that she might hide herself. If it had not been for the strange quiet that had descended on her soul from Mr. Rogers's half-inspired words at Hunstanton, she would not have had courage to face this new discovery, for she knew now that this ache in her heart would never leave her and what its true name was. Well, this pain must be endured with the other troubles of life, and endured in silence. Harrison turned to her, and she met his eyes without flinching. She was relieved to find there was no intimacy, no claim to familiarity, only courtesy and the cool readiness of a leader. "Mr. Rogers is overwearied," he said, under his breath. "We must rouse him." "Dear sir, you must come this way," he continued, laying his hand on the minister's rein. "Stay me not, stay me not," he answered, wheeling his horse so abruptly that Harrison had to step quickly out of the way. "I must back to Hunstanton lest destruction come upon him even as a thief in the night." Harrison caught his bridle once more. "You would not go alone to him," he said, in a cheerful voice, "Remember, it is written that two witnesses shall establish a matter. You will seek Mr. Marshman, and go together to warn this man." "You say well, you say well," answered the minister, hurriedly. "There shall be two witnesses, and two prophets before the great day of the Lord. I will go seek Brother Marshman instantly," and setting spurs to his wearied horse he dashed forward along the road to Lynn. Audrey looked at Harrison in dismay. "Is he mad?" she asked.