Ronald and Foster went up to the Crown Hotel, which is at the top of the principal street in Marlow, from which point two streets branch off to right and left, one leading to Little Marlow, the other to the village of Medmenham. A quaint, battered, old obelisk of stone, surrounded by an iron railing, stands in what is called the Market Place, and serves as a sign-post. The hotel itself, with its archway in the middle, which divides it into two parts, was mostly occupied with boating men, in their picturesque flannels, and as the young fellows went upstairs to dress, they saw the bar crowded with thirsty souls. Ronald was ready first, and putting a light coat over his evening dress, went down to order a dog-cart to take them to Hurley, and then amused himself by observing the different people with which the place was thronged. Getting tired of this, he strolled through the dining-room to the quaint garden at the back, with the red brick walls, all softened by time and covered with peach trees. "It's like the song," said Ronald, looking at all the harmonious tints, softened under the fading twilight of the sky, and he commenced to hum Hope Temple's song, "The Old Garden," when he heard Foster calling him, and found that gentleman waiting for him in the dog-cart. "Jump up, my boy," said Mr. Foster; "we've no time to lose, it's past six now." "All right," replied Ronald, pulling out his pipe; "wait till I light up." And, having done so, he sprang up to the side of his companion, and they were soon spinning swiftly down the High Street of Marlow. "I know the way," said Foster; "so I'll drive." Ronald nodded, by way of response as they went over the bridge, and they saw the river, dim and fantastic-looking below, while the lights were twinkling in the windows of houses, and the air was full of floating shadows. In front arose the great mass of Quarry Woods, with here and there a tall tree, standing out sharply against the clear glow of the sky. An owl hooted in the distance, and then there came the deep sound of a dog's bark, as the two young men drove swiftly along. "Did you speak to Miss Cotoner to-day?" asked Foster, after a pause. "I did not--exactly," said Ronald, hesitatingly, taking the cigar out of his mouth; "but she asked me if I knew the reason she was marrying her cousin. I said yes, and asked was it true?" "And her answer?" "Was, 'God help me, it is true!'" "Humph!" said Foster, thoughtfully, "she might not have been referring to your thought that she killed Verschoyle, but to her own, that she marries him to shield her sister." "Then you think she is innocent?" cried Ronald, eagerly. "I don't know," replied Foster, "but I would certainly give her the benefit of the doubt rather than condemn her unheard." "Condemn her!" echoed Ronald, bitterly, "God knows I'd give my life to prove her innocent."