"Hold your tongue!" he said in a broken voice, "unless you want to drive me mad." He paused, for his face was working; but at last with a stamp he controlled his emotion. "Look here," he said hoarsely. "I had no one to come to but you. Will you help me?" "Harry!" she whispered reproachfully, as she clung to him more firmly. "Hah! that's better," he said. "Now don't talk, only listen. But are you sure that we shall not be overheard?" "Quite, dear; we are alone." "Then listen. I have thought all this out. I've been a blackguard; I did knock old Van Heldre down." Louise moaned. "But once more I tell you I'm not a thief. I did not rob him, and I did not go to rob him. I swear it." "I believe you, Harry," she whispered. "Well, I'll tell you what I'm going to do." She nodded again, unable to speak, but clung to him spasmodically, for everything seemed to swim round before her eyes. "I am penniless. There, that proves to you I did not rob poor old Van. I want money--enough to escape over to France--to get to London first. Then I shall change my name. Don't be alarmed," he said tremblingly, as he felt Louise start. "I shall give up the name of Vine, but I'm not going to call myself Des Vignes, or any of that cursed folly." "Harry!" "All right, dear. It made me mad to think of it all. I've come to my senses now, and I'm going over the Channel to make a fresh start and to try and prove myself a man. Some day when I've done this father shall know that I am alive, and perhaps then he may take me by the hand and forgive me." "Harry, let me send for him--let me tell him now." "No," said the young man sternly. "He loves you! He will forgive you, and bless God for restoring you once more, as I do, my darling. Oh, Harry, Harry! My brother!" "Hush!" he whispered, with his voice trembling as he held her to him and stroked her face. "Hush, sis, hush!" "Then I may send for him?" "No, no, no!" he cried fiercely. "I am little better than a convict. He must not, he shall not know I am alive." "But, Harry, dearest--" "Silence!" he whispered angrily; "I came to you, my sister, for help. No, no, dear, I'm not cross; but you talk like a woman. The dear old dad would forgive me, God bless him! I know he would, just as you have, and fall on my neck and kiss me as--as--as--Ah! Lou, Lou, Lou, my girl," he cried, fighting against his emotion, "the law will not be like your love. You must help me to escape, at all events for a time." "And may I tell him where you are gone--my father and Maddy?" "Hush!" he cried, in so wild and strange a voice that she shrank from him. "Do you want to unman me when I have planned my future, and then see me handcuffed and taken to gaol? No: Harry Vine is dead. Some day another man will come and ask the forgiveness he needs." "Harry!"