"Yes, I did follow you in the interests of purity. And it is well I did, for I found out what you are, a low, wicked----" Miriam held up her hand and stepped forward so suddenly that Mrs. Darrow stopped short. She saw how perilous was her position; and she nerved herself to cope with it. "Silence!" she cried peremptorily. "You shall not abuse me in this way. If you have any definite charge to make, state it, and the evidence on which you have it." "I accuse your lover, Jabez, of killing my poor uncle to steal that will and ruin Gerald Arkel, and I accuse you of aiding and abetting him." "That is at least concise," said Miriam bitterly; "and your evidence?" "I heard Jabez say that he would 'knife' Mr. Barton if he interfered with him." "Quite so; well, as Mr. Barton did not interfere with Jabez, evidently the motive was wanting. As to my having been a party to anything calculated to harm either Mr. Arkel or Mr. Barton, that is a foul lie, such as only yourself could invent." Mrs. Darrow rose and drew her shawl round her. "We shall see what the inspector says," she said savagely. "I shall tell him all I overheard, and formally charge you." "There is no need for you to do that," replied Miriam. "I shall go to the inspector myself and tell him everything." "You dare not," cried the widow. "Not only dare, but will! I leave your house at once, and apply to Major Dundas for the salary due to me." "Yes, and take to your heels, no doubt--but I'll see you don't get very far, my lady." "As far as Southampton, whither Major Dundas will, I have no doubt, accompany me. There, fortunately, I shall be able to put it out of your power to harm me. I will not say what I think of you further than to pity from the bottom of my heart the poor dear little child who has the misfortune to call you mother." Then, without another word, Miriam left the room. Upstairs she packed her box, dressed herself, and went off to bid good-bye to Dicky. The child's nervous system had received a severe shock at the sight of the dead man's body. Since the fatal night they had been obliged to keep him in bed. Now, although more composed, he was still acutely nervous. When Miriam entered the nursery he started up with a slight cry. She took him in her arms, and could feel that he was trembling. "Hush, Dicky dear!" she said, kissing him, "I have come to say good-bye to you just for a little while." "Oh!" the boy clung to her and wept. "You are not going away, Miss Crane?" "Yes, dear--I must." She had not the heart to tell him the whole truth. "But I shall come back and see you again very soon. I am only going up to London; and while I am away Dicky is going to be a brave boy, isn't he?" "I promise--I promise; but I was so afraid when I saw Uncle Barton like that." "Yes, dear, I know. But poor Uncle Barton is very happy now; you mustn't think any more about him. Tell me, Dicky, do you remember if the library window was open when you went in to see him?"