"Oh, Gerald," rejoined Madelaine, "I would not trust that man! He looks as if he could be cruel as well as hard. Do not run the risk of putting your life into his power. Let us fly while we can, for you are liable to meet him at any moment, and you might be snatched from me almost before our little time together is begun." "To tell you the truth, I have met him already," said her husband, "but he evidently took me for a spirit, believing that I had done away with myself so long before." Gerald proceeded to give his wife an account of the unexpected meeting at the entrance of the little house in the wood, when the flash of lightning had suddenly revealed the two old acquaintances to each other, and Field had dashed the supposed apparition to the ground. "I was barely able to crawl to good Mrs. Potter’s," he continued, "but she took me in, and there I have been until to-day, when I ventured out for the first time, longing for another glimpse of the little angel-messenger who had tended me so lovingly in his leafy bower. No wonder that I loved the lad, seeing he was my own son!" It was late according to the primitive habits of Sunbury when Gerald at last rose to leave. "I must go back now to my worthy landlady," he remarked, "or she will wonder what has become of me. I will come over early in the morning, and we can make arrangements to leave for London to-morrow afternoon. Please God, Madelaine, we shall have some blessed days together, before we need to part again." "I shall be thankful when we are off," said his trembling wife. "Do be careful, Gerald, and keep out of Mr. Field’s way. I don’t like to think of you showing your face at all while you are here." "I’ll take good care, dearest," he replied, "so don’t you worry. Now I must just run up and take a peep at little Robin before I go. Oh, Madelaine, if you only knew how I have hungered for a sight of you and the child! I can’t think how it was that my instinct did not tell me who he was, when he came to me in the wood. It was the name that put me off." "I could not call him ’Gerald,’ even though we christened him so," explained Madelaine, as she stood beside her husband, looking down at the sleeping boy. "It was too precious a word to be used for anyone but you, and I got to speak of him as ’Robin’ that first winter after we came to England, because of his bright eyes and rosy cheeks, and the name has stuck to him ever since." The interview next morning was satisfactorily concluded, and Gerald was on his way back to Mrs. Potter’s house. His heart was lighter than it had been for many a long day, as he walked through the wood. Although a terribly dark cloud loomed ahead, a rainbow seemed to have thrown itself across the grey and troubled sky, and rays of love and hope shone all around.