‘Hush, Ruth!’ he exclaimed, seizing her arm. ‘Don’t say a word. I have heard all. I followed you. God forgive me for dragging you down to this! I will save you yet if I can.’ ‘Oh, Edward! what would you do?’ she cried. ‘You call me Edward still?’ he said, with a look of gratitude in his eyes—‘you, who are so pure and good, though you know now the secret that has preyed upon and been slowly killing me for years? Ruth, can you ever forgive me for my base treachery in letting you link yourself with a God-forsaken wretch?’ ‘Yes, Edward, I forgive you. You are my husband—my kind, loving husband—still.’ ‘Thank God for those words, Ruth!’ he said. ‘Kiss me.’ He bent over her in the dark night, and his trembling lips pressed hers. ‘Where are you going?’ she said. ‘Let me go with you.’ ‘No; there is only one chance now. I must find out Egerton at once. He is the enemy who is doing this. I believe I can silence him yet. If I can’t I must leave the country at once. Ruth, if we never meet again, God bless you!’ He tore himself from her agonized embrace, and went swiftly down the walk and along the road to the station. All that night there was a faint light burning in Ruth’s room—the room where everything reminded her of the husband who had set out on a perilous journey from whence he might never return. And all that night, with tears and sobs, Ruth knelt and prayed—prayed as she had never prayed before to the God she worshipped—for help and succour in this, the darkest hour of her life. Late that evening Squire Heritage called at Mr. Seth Preene’s house. Seth started up in astonishment. ‘Why, whatever brings you up to town?’ ‘The worst,’ answered the squire. ‘Gurth Egerton is back, and knows all. He will split to-morrow.’ ‘How do you know?’ gasped Preene, ‘A woman has split on the plot,’ answered the squire. ‘There s only one chance now. Do you know where Egerton is?’ ‘Yes, at his house—at Birnie’s that is now.’ ‘Are you sure?’ ‘Yes. I followed him from Heckett’s only yesterday. I wondered what he was doing there.’ ‘At Heckett’s!’ gasped the squire. ‘Is Heckett still—still—alive?’ ‘Yes,’ answered Preene, looking steadily at his companion; but he won’t do much more mischief. He’s in a galloping consumption.’ The squire heaved a deep sigh. At least he was free from the brand of Cain. ‘I’ve been going to write to you once or twice about the goings-on there,’ said Preene; ‘only you agreed to see Heckett, last time you were here, and square him, and as I never heard any more from you, I concluded you had. There’s some people staying in his house, and I can’t make out who they are.’ The squire scarcely heard what Preene said. He was turning over a desperate scheme in his mind. If he could secure Gurth, he could secure Heckett too. He would brave the worst and see Egerton at once.