"Let me finish my tale," he said, even doggedly. "I said to myself before I came you should hear it. I swore I'd stop at naught, and I kept my word. I sowed a seed here and there, and th' soil was just right for it. They were in the mood to hearken to aught, and they hearkened. But there came a time when I found out that things were worse with you than with me, and had gone harder with you. If you'd won where I lost it would have been different, but you lost most of the two--you'd the most to lose--and I changed my mind." He stopped a second and looked at Murdoch, who had come back and thrown himself into his chair again. "I've said many a time that you were a queer chap," he went on, as if half dubious of himself. "You _are_ a queer chap. At th' start you got a hold on me, and when I changed my mind you got a hold on me again. I swore I'd undo what I'd done, if I could. I knew if the thing was finished and you got away with it they'd soon find out it was naught they need fret about, so I swore to see you safe through. I gave you the keys to come here to work, and every night I came and waited until you'd done and gone away. I brought my pistols with me and kept a sharp lookout. To-night I was late and they'd laid their plans and got here before me. There's th' beginning and there's th' end." "You saved my life," said Murdoch. "Let me remember that." "I changed my mind and swore to undo what I'd done. There's naught for me in that, my lad, and plenty to go agen me." After a little he pushed his chair back. "The time's not up," he said. "I've made short work of it. Pick up thy traps and we'll go over th' place together and see that it's safe." He led the way, carrying the lantern, and Murdoch followed him. They went from one end of the place to the other and found all quiet; the bars of a small lower window had been filed and wrenched out of place, Mr. Reddy and his friends having made their entrance through it. "They've been on the lookout many a night before they made up their minds," said Haworth. "And they chose the right place to try." Afterward they went out together, locking the door and the iron gates behind them, and went down in company to the dark little station with its dim, twinkling lights. Naturally they did not talk very freely. Now and then there was a blank silence of many minutes between them. But at last the train thundered its way in and stopped, and there was a feeble bustle to and fro among the sleepy officials and an opening and shutting and locking of doors. When Murdoch got into his empty compartment, Haworth stood at its step. At the very last he spoke in a strange hurry: "When you come back," he said, "when you come back--perhaps----" There was a porter passing with a lantern, which struck upon his face and showed it plainly. He shrank back a moment as if he feared the light; but when it was gone he drew near again and spoke through the window.