As he spoke, Edgar re-entered the room with a quick step; but it was to Helen he now turned. He had only hitherto, throughout all the scenes which had taken place, spoken a few words to her, and given her one look; but the words and the look were both of love. He now led her at once into the deep window, and conversed eagerly with her, mingling inquiries about matters quite different with expressions of tenderness and affection. "This bad man must be found, Helen, dearest," he said; "you look pale, love, and anxious. I am the more eager to find him, my beloved, because he has disgraced the religion which we hold, perverting its pure precepts to suit the dark, foul purposes of his own heart. Even were it not for that, my Helen, I would pursue him throughout life; for he poisoned the sources of my dear mother's happiness, and has turned the noble nature of my father to a curse. Nay, look not up so imploringly in my face, sweet love, with those dear reproachful eyes, as if you thought your Edgar fierce and stern. It is only that I am eager, Helen, very eager; I have ever been so: eager in love; eager, I trust, in pursuit of justice and right; eager in defence of innocence; and surely I may be eager in the punishment of iniquity and wrong? Helen will not think me very wrong for being so?" "Wrong, Edgar!" she answered; "do you not know I think everything you do right? I never saw you do anything that was wrong from our infancy till now." "Oh! yes, many a thing," answered Edgar; and then dropping his voice, he added: "When first I kissed those dear pouting lips, did you not tell me I was very wrong indeed? But, Helen, we must find this man, wherever he may be. I shall not rest in peace till I have made him, with his own lips, undo the wrong he did my mother. You know his haunts well. Tell me, love, where you think it most likely he would betake himself." "Not to our house, certainly," answered Helen, "now that he knows we are aware of all his baseness to poor Mr. Dudley; and not to the cottage of Connor, unless it be to reproach him for exposing him. I really know not where he will go; surely not to the Priory!" "No, I should think not," answered Edgar, musing. "But here comes your father. This night shall set his heart at ease." "That will never be," replied Helen, with a very sorrowful look. "The death of that unhappy young man still rests like a heavy weight upon him. You have but to look into his face to see that it is bearing him down to the earth." "I trust your happiness, dear Helen, may cheer him," answered her lover; "and to secure that shall be Edgar's task." Advancing towards Clive as he spoke, he put nearly the same questions to him which he had put to Helen, regarding the probable course which Mr. Filmer had pursued. "I should have thought he was more likely to turn and stand at bay than to fly," replied Mr. Clive; "but if he has fled, it will be far, depend upon it."