Patty hurried back to the open door and brought out the candle, which burned steadily in the motionless blackness of the air. She said not a word. Of the pang it gave her to see the man whom she had rejected bringing back the man whom she had married she gave no sign. If she could have covered her face that he might not see her, she would have done so; but that being impossible, Patty never flinched. She held the light to direct him, while now and then roused to take a step of his own accord, but generally dragged by the other, Gervase was got in. She led the way to the library, which was on the same level, stepping with precaution not to be heard, shading the light with her hand, with all her wits about her. There was not a tinge of colour on Patty’s face. She was cold, shivering with excitement and distress. It was not till Gervase had been laid upon the sofa that she spoke. “I am sorry you have had this trouble,” she said. “I hope you have not over-strained yourself with such a weight. Can I get you anything?” She looked at him courageously in the face. It was right to offer a man something who had brought, even were it only a strayed dog, home. And he, too, looked at her, and for a moment said nothing. He stretched his arms to relax them. “I’m not a man that cares for the stuff,” he said, “but perhaps I’d be none the worse for a drop of brandy to take off the strain. He’s safe enough there,” he added. “You needn’t be anxious. He’ll wake up before the daylight, and then you can get him upstairs.” Patty did not say a word, but led the way to the dining-room, where there was brandy to be got. It was a thing any lady might have done, she said to herself, even through the wild beating of her heart, and the passion in her breast--the passion of rage, and exasperation, and shame. He was cool enough, thinking more of stretching and twisting himself to ease his muscles than of the silent anguish in which she was. When he had swallowed the brandy he advised her, with rough friendliness, “Take a little yourself. It’s hard on you; you want something to give you a little strength!” “Will you take any more?” said Patty, sharply. “No, I don’t want no more. It’s awful good stuff; it runs through a man like fire. I’d been at a bit of an ’op over there by Coulter’s Mill, and I nigh fell over him lying out on the moor. He might have got his death; so when I saw who it was, I thought I’d best bring him home. But he’ll take no harm; the drink that’s in him will keep the cold out.” “I am much obliged to you,” said Patty. “If there’s any reward you’d take----”