She had listened to each word and looked for each passing expression while he spoke. She looked one moment longer after he had finished, and then turned quietly away. "It is good to hear--if you only knew how good!" she said softly. "And words are not always empty. When they come from the heart, as ours do, they bring up gold with them--and things better than gold." CHAPTER XII. A long silence followed. Neither of them, perhaps, realised exactly what had passed, or if they did, actual facts seemed very far away from their dreamland. Marion was the first to feel again the horror of the situation, tenfold worse than before he had last spoken. "Oh, I cannot bear it!" she said suddenly. "I cannot bear it now--as I could. Really alive, after all--and this story to-day? Have you found out nothing? Have you nothing more to tell me?" "Yes, there is something to tell you." "What?" "Bad news." "Bad? Worse than--" "I am afraid so," answered Brett. "You have told me that he is alive." She laid her hand upon his arm. "Do not tell me that he is here! You said you could not believe it!" "If I do not, it is only because I have not seen him with my own eyes. I did not mean to tell you--until--" he stopped. "Tell me!" cried Marion. "Tell me everything quickly! If you tell me--I can bear it, if you tell me--but not from any one else. Where is he? When did he come? Is he arrested again? Is he in prison?" "No, not yet. He is in a sailors' lodging-house--if it is he." "How do you know it? Oh, how can you be so sure, if you have not seen him?" "None of us have seen him," answered Brett, barely able to speak at all. "Vanbrugh and Brown--they went to find him--I found Brown in Mulberry Street, waiting for news--you know the Police Headquarters are there. Vanbrugh had left him--then I came up town again--to you." "Russell Vanbrugh has been here," said Marion, trying to collect her thoughts. "He told Cousin Annie to give strict orders about reporters." "He was afraid that Darche might come to try and get money from you--" "Money! I would give--God knows what I would give." "I do not believe he will come," said Brett, assuming a confidence he did not feel. "He must know that the house is watched already." Marion's expression changed. Her face turned paler. The lines deepened and her eyes grew dark. She had made a desperate resolution. She took Brett's hand and looked at him in silence for a moment. "Good-bye--dear," she said. She would have withdrawn her hand, but Brett grasped it and pressed it almost roughly to his lips. "Good-bye," she said again. It was almost too much to ask of any man. Brett held her hand fast. "No--not good-bye," he answered with rising passion. "It is not possible. It cannot be, Marion--do not say it." "I must--you must."