"Whatever I have been," was the reply, "I would give her no cause for regret hereafter. A man who has suffered as I have has no mind left for trifling. She should do what she would with me." Haldane seemed to hesitate whether she should give further information or not. "Can't you trust me?" asked the young man sorrowfully. "I have done ill deeds in my life, but one thing I can say boldly,--I never yet told a lie. Oh, tell me where to go, if my love yet lives? Can't you trust me?" "I can," said a voice which was not Haldane's. "I can, Stephen." Stephen stared round the hut as if the evidence of his ears were totally untrustworthy. Haldane touched him on the shoulder with a smile. "Come!" she said. The next minute Stephen was kneeling beside Ermine, covering her hand with kisses, and pouring upon her all the sweetest and softest epithets which could be uttered. "They are all gone, sweet heart," he said, in answer to her earnest queries. "And the priests may say what they will, but I believe they are in Heaven." "But that other, Stephen? You said, me and one other. One of the men, I suppose?" "That other," said Stephen gently, "that other, dear, is Rudolph." "What can have become of him?" "He may have strayed, or run into some cottage. That I cannot find him may mean that he is alive." "Or that he died early enough to be buried," she said sadly. "The good Lord would look to the child," said Haldane unexpectedly. "He is either safe with Him, or He will tell you some day what has become of Him." "You're a queer witch!" said Stephen, looking at her with some surprise. "I'm not a witch at all. I'm only a harmless old woman who deals in herbs and such like, but folks make me out worse than I am. And when every body looks on you as black, it's not so easy to keep white. If others shrink from naming God to you, you get to be shy of it too. Men and women have more influence over each other than they think. For years and years I've felt as if my soul was locked up in the dark, and could not get out: but this girl, that I took in because she needed bodily help, has given me better help than ever I gave her--she has unlocked the door, and let the light in on my poor smothered soul. Now, young man, if you'll take an old woman's counsel--old women are mostly despised, but they know a thing or two, for all that--you'll just let the maid alone a while. She couldn't be safer than she is here; and she'd best not venture forth of the doors till her hurts are healed, and the noise and talk has died away. Do you love her well enough to deny yourself for her good? That's the test of real love, and there are not many who will stand it." "Tell me what you would have me do, and I'll see," answered Stephen with a smile. "Can you stay away for a month or two?" "Well, that's ill hearing. But I reckon I can, if it is to do any good to Ermine."