“Oh, Edmund, what justice have you made possible? What can I do but implore you to go? Are not you in danger every day?” “Less here than anywhere; though I understand there have been inquiries made; the constable in the village shows a degree of interest--” “Edmund,” she cried, seizing him by the arm, “for God’s sake, go!” “And not bring shame upon you, Madam? Why should I mind? If I have gone wrong, whose fault is it? You must take that responsibility one time or other. And now that you are free--” “I cannot defy the law,” she said, with a miserable moan. “I can’t deliver you from what you have done. God knows, though it had been to choose between you and everything else, I would have done you justice, as you say, as soon as it was possible. But to what use now? It would only direct attention to you--bring the--” She shuddered, and said no more. “The police, you mean,” he replied, with a careless laugh. “And no great harm either, except to you; for of course all my antecedents would be published. But there are such things as disguises, and I am clever at a make-up. You might receive me, and no one would be the wiser. The cost of a new outfit, a new name--you might choose me a nice one. Of all places in the world, a gentleman’s house in the country is the last where they would look for me. And then if there was any danger you could swear I was--” “Oh, Edmund, Edmund, spare me! I cannot do this--to live in a deception under my children’s eyes.” “Your children’s eyes!” he said, and laughed. The keen derision of his tone went to her very heart. “I am used to hear everything said to me that can be said to a woman,” she said quickly, “and if there was anything wanting you make it up. I have had full measure, heaped up and running over. But there is no time for argument now. All that might have been possible in other circumstances; now there is no safety for you but in getting away. You know this, surely, as well as I do. The anxiety you have kept me in it is impossible to tell. I have been calmer since he is gone: it matters less. But for your own sake--” The other voice said, with a change of tone, “I am lost anyhow. I shall do nothing for my own sake--” “Oh, Edmund, Edmund, do not break my heart--at your age! If you will only set your mind to better ways, everything can be put right again. As soon as I know you are safe I will take it all in hand. I have not been able hitherto, and now I am afraid to direct observation upon you. But only go away; let me know you are safe: and you have my promise I will pay anything, whatever they ask.” “Misprision of felony! They won’t do that; they know better. If there is any paying,” he said, with his careless laugh, “it had much better be to me.” “You shall be provided,” she said breathlessly, “if you will only think of your own safety and go away.”