Then for the first time she heard his voice, deep, sad, and thrilling--a voice that once had been beautiful, but had been robbed of half its beauty. "Who I am does not matter," he said slowly. "What I want you shall know." "Tell me," said Miriam, recovering from her first alarm. "Know then that I overheard you and that lad. But you need not fear. Your secret lies safe in my keeping. I know you, and I know of you." "Was it you who found out all about Jabez?" "It was I, and it is of Jabez I would speak with you. He comes here soon to see you." "So Shorty says." "Then warn him while there is yet time that he does not come, for there is danger." "From whom?" asked Miriam with a white face. "From him who lives in yonder Manor--he threatens to arrest Jabez." Miriam drew closer to him, and laid her hand upon his arm. It was in a frightened whisper she spoke. "For what--for that?" "Yes, indeed; for that. He knows all, and will surely use his knowledge." "He dare not do that," and Miriam twisted her hands together as if in pain. "He will not--not while I obey him." "Put not your hope in such false reasoning, child. He is a man relentless and of devilish persistency." "But why should he seek to harm Jabez?" "I know not. He gives no reason. But he threatens. Be warned, and if you would save your Jabez, act while there is time. Farewell." "No, no; tell me who you are, and what you know of Mr. Barton." "What do I know of Barton?" The man laughed fiercely. There was that in his laugh which caused Miriam to shiver. "What do I know of him?--more, child, than I dare reveal--more than, for my own sake, I dare to tell you." "Why not?" "Because he holds me in the hollow of his hand. I am a nameless man, and must ever be his slave. In warning you this night even I have run great risk. But I would save any soul from such a fate as mine." "Oh!" Miriam shrank back. "Are you like Jabez?" The nameless man looked at her through the darkness, and it seemed to Miriam as though his eyes were luminous. Peering into his face she saw stamped upon it a look of abject misery; the look of a soul damned past redemption--past all hope. For a moment they looked at one another, then the man stole quietly away--melted, as it were, into the surrounding blackness. Miriam made no attempt to stay him. She read in his eyes the look that she had read in Jabez', and knew what he was, and why he obeyed Barton. For quite a moment after he had left her she stood still, clutching at her heart as though there lurked a cruel pain. Then with a sigh she turned homeward--to the only home she knew.