This turned the channel of the Judge’s thoughts, and, remembering that not far away there was a little stream, he arose, and, forgetting his wounded foot, walked swiftly on, bidding Esther follow, as he wished to question her further on the subject. To this she did not seem at all averse, but went with him willingly, answering readily all the questions which Oliver put to her, and appearing through the whole to be sincere in what she said. The cold water which they sprinkled copiously on Mildred’s face and neck restored her for a moment, but, with a shudder, she again lay back in the arms of the Judge, who, declaring her as light as a feather, hobbled on, giving her occasionally a loving hug, and whispering, as he did so: “Hanged if they make me believe it. Bobum don’t get her after I’ve made my will, and all that.” By the drawing-room window Geraldine was sitting, and when, by the moonlight, she saw the strange procession moving up the Cold Spring path, she went out to meet it, asking anxiously what had happened. “Clubs can tell you,” returned the Judge, hurrying on with Mildred, while Oliver explained to Geraldine what he knew, and then referred her to Esther Bennett for any further information. “Is it possible!” exclaimed Geraldine, while in her eyes there was a glitter of delight, as she fell back with Esther, and began a most earnest conversation. Carrying Mildred to her room, Judge Howell laid her upon the bed as gently as if she had been an infant, and then bent over her until she came fully back to consciousness and asked him where she was. “Oh, I remember now!” she said. “A horrid thing came to me down in the hut, and Lawrence is lost for ever and ever!” “No, he ain’t; it’s all a blasted lie!” said the Judge, and instantly on Mildred’s face there broke a smile of such joy that Oliver, who had entered the room, cried out: “It’s cruel to deceive her so, Judge Howell, until we know for certain that the woman’s story is false.” Like a hunted deer Mildred’s eyes turned from one to the other, reading everywhere a confirmation of her fears, and, with a low piercing cry, she moaned: “It’s true, it’s true! he is lost forever! Oh, Oliver! can’t you comfort me a little? You never failed me before; don’t leave me now when I need it the most!” and she wound her arms convulsively round his neck. Oliver had his suspicions, but as he could give no reason for them he would not rouse hopes which might never be realized, and he only answered through his tears: “I would like to comfort you, Milly, if I could; but I can’t,—I can’t!”