“You are to join your wife two days from now,” he said; and Monjoy needed no further informing that Sally had passed away--for victim had followed hunter within a very few hours. “The man outside thinks he heard you,” the parson continued by and by. Monjoy frowned. “Then that drags you into the business,” he muttered. “Yes, I’m in it,” the parson sighed, passing his hand over his harassed brow.--“When your wife joins you, she will bring her friend’s child.” Monjoy frowned again. “Oh, why couldn’t she meet me somewhere over the Edge!” he murmured. “The district is almost enclosed by soldiers by this.” “Ah!... Then together will be safer than singly, with one a woman and certain to be watched. The child!----” “Another thing; I was to tell you they’d found Ellah.” “I didn’t know they’d lost him.” “Ah, of course not....” And though the parson whispered no more than a word or two, the finish of Eastwood Ellah had best be related here. They say that doctors have a name for that disease of the mind of his, that shunning of light and air and space and creeping into holes. Narrower than the niche in the kitchen of the “Cross Pipes,” or than the chimney of the “Fullers’ Arms,” was the space in which, the day before, at eight in the evening, they had found him. He had not left Sally Northrop’s inn. An old well, covered with loose boards, lay in one corner of the cellar in which the ale-casks were kept; maybe Ellah had seen this well in times past; at what hour of the day or night he had sought it none knew. It had occurred to somebody to search there, and, lowering a lantern by a string, they had seen his feet. Monjoy sighed, and then roused himself a little. “Now one word,” he said. “I may have compromised you to-night. It’s up-kedge-and-cut now, for they’re wanting three or four of us; so if you wish to be rid of me, I’ll thank you for what you’ve done and take my chance.” “God knows I do, and I don’t!” the parson groaned. “Hush!... I’ll leave you now; I need rest. I’ll lock you in--I’ll lock £200 in--that’s your figure on a handbill I’ve seen----” He passed heavily out. The sentry was nodding again in the chair. That morning Cope was taken to his own house at the top of the croft in Horwick.