It was a relief when the strangers’ conversation turned at once to the subject of the tract of land acquired by Gerald so many years before, the title deeds to which they told her they were desirous of investigating. What was the value of a few acres in the wilds of America compared with the well-being of the one she loved? True, he had spoken regretfully of it to her, but he had also mentioned it in connection with Mr. Field, the man of all others whom he sought to avoid, and she had no wish to stir up dangerous enquiries by seeking to establish a claim to that which had so long passed out of their hands. Afraid of implicating her husband or doing anything of which he would not approve, she committed herself to nothing, merely assuring her callers that she would gladly give up all idea of the recovery of the property rather than involve herself in legal or other toils. Much against her will, she at length permitted Elihu Pratt to make a copy of the letter written to her by Mr. Field, which she produced at their request, comforting herself that it only afforded additional proof of Gerald’s supposed death, and might thus be of advantage to him than otherwise. "I am thankful to be leaving Sunbury to-day," she thought, "and that I shall be able to talk it over with my husband this evening. By to-morrow I trust we shall be lost to the world in the great whirlpool of London." There was one thing only which Madelaine desired to do before she left. She could not depart without bidding farewell to the man whom she had so recently nursed back to life from the very borders of the grave. "I wish you would run up to the village and ask Benjamin Green to come and see me, Robin," she said after the two visitors had left the house. "Tell him we are going away this afternoon, and that I want to say good-bye to him." It was not long before Ben appeared, his arm still in a sling, but otherwise almost recovered from the effects of his late accident. After a few moments’ chat Madelaine excused herself, saying she must finish her packing, as the fly was coming for them soon after lunch. She shook hands cordially with her former patient, but Ben still lingered. "Mrs. Power," he began, but words seemed to fail him, as he shuffled his feet awkwardly on the carpet, and half turned away his head. All at once he hastily put his hand into his coat pocket and took out a small parcel which he placed upon the table before her. "That is yours," he said. "It was lying just there when I took it." "What can it be?" asked Madelaine in surprise as she opened the packet. "My husband’s watch!" she exclaimed in delight. "How did you get hold of it? I am truly pleased to have it back again." With shame and contrition did Ben confess his misdeeds, telling how on the night of his first return to Sunbury, he had been tempted by the open window as he prowled round the house after his raid on Robin’s ducks.