"Yes, it may; but the chances are ten thousand to one against it. He told me, too, that a friend of his had seen the same figure, clad in the same clothes it wore ten or a dozen years ago. The last-named phenomenon I cannot account for. But if you can believe that a man who jumped into the Puffing Hole years ago is still alive, all other beliefs in this case are easy. Now, Thomas Blake, I have spoken more fully to you than I have ever spoken to any other man. I want you to advise and help me. "How?" asked Blake, stopping in his walk and looking straight into her white, fixed, expressionless face. "By finding out Fahey and discovering whence my husband got his money. Then, if I may return it without disgracing his name or exposing him, I will, and if not----" "Well, Marion, if not?" "I shall put an end to my knowledge and myself, and so keep his grave quiet and silent for him." "Marion, this is sheer madness." "So much the better. If I do wrong in an access of insanity, no moral blame attaches to me or my act. Will you help me? Once upon a time I could have counted on your aid." "At that time you held out the promise of a glorious reward. Do you hold it out still, Marion?" "No. That thought must be put to rest for ever. You may think it monstrous that such being my mind, I should deliberately seek you and ask for your help. But I have no future, and you are all that is left to me of the past----" "Marion, Marion, for Heaven's sake don't say it is too late!" he cried, passionately, and advanced a step towards her. She retired two steps, and made an imperative gesture, bidding him stand still. "Stay where you are and listen to me. To quote again from the poem you quoted awhile ago, 'My youth,' she said, 'was blighted with a curse.'" "And," he said, pointing to himself, "if we alter the text slightly, we find 'This traitor was the cause.' Is not that what you mean, Marion? Do not spare me; I am meet for vengeance." "The present one is not a case for vengeance. But if you like you may in this matter expiate the past." "And when my expiation is complete, in what relation shall you and I stand to one another?" "In the same relation as before we met. You will be just to me, and help me in this matter, Thomas Blake. Remember that my life has not been very joyous." "But, Marion," he urged, softening his voice, and leaning towards her, "if I am to take what you say at its full value----" "I mean it all quite literally." "Then my expiation would assume the form of leading you to the tomb instead of the altar." She drew back, and said: