She was too ill to note the significance of his words; she only knew that they gave her comfort. He hurried from the room. In less than an hour he must be at the London Bridge terminus, or in all probability the five o'clock train would carry Dr. Jedd to St. Leonards; and on Dr. Jedd his chief hope rested. "Do you believe me now?" he asked of Mrs. Woolper as he went out into the hall. "I do," she answered in a whisper; "and I will do what you want." She took his hand in her wrinkled horny palm and grasped it firmly. He felt that in this firm pressure there was a promise sacred as any oath ever registered on earth. He met Mr. Sheldon on the threshold, and passed him without a word. The time might come in which he would have to mask his thoughts, and stoop to the hateful hypocrisy of civility to this man; but he had not yet schooled himself to do this. At the gate he met George Sheldon. "What's up now?" asked the lawyer. "Did you send your message?" "Yes; I telegraphed to Phil." "It has been trouble wasted. He has brought her home." "What does that mean?" "Who knows? I pray God that he may have overreached himself. I have set a watch upon my dear love, and no further harm shall come to her. I am going to fetch Dr. Jedd." "And you are not afraid of Phil's smelling a rat?" "I am afraid of nothing that he can do henceforward. If it is not too late to save her, I will save her." He waited for no more, but jumped into the cab. "London Bridge terminus! You must get me there by a quarter to five," he said to the driver. George Sheldon went no further than the gate of his brother's domain. "I wonder whether the Harold's Hill people will send that telegram after him," he thought. "It'll be rather unpleasant for Fred Orcott if they do. But it's ten to one they won't. The normal condition of every seaside lodging-house keeper in one degree removed from idiotcy." Book the Ninth. THROUGH THE FURNACE CHAPTER I. SOMETHING TOO MUCH. "Is that young man mad?" asked Philip Sheldon, as he went into his study immediately after Valentine had passed him in the hall. The question was not addressed to any particular individual; and Diana, who was standing near the door by which Mr. Sheldon entered, took upon herself to answer it. "I think he is very anxious," she said in a half whisper. "What brought him here just now? He did not know we were coming home." Mrs. Woolper answered this question. "He came for something for Miss Charlotte, sir; some books as she'd had from the library. They'd not been sent back; and he came to see about their being sent." "What books?" murmured Charlotte. But a pressure from Mrs. Woolper's hand prevented her saying more.