“That certainly is your imagination; there’s not a sound. But was there no one else there in the room besides you, and Edwin Lawrence, and--I?” “There was the other man.” “Was that other man his brother?” “I don’t just know; I can’t quite think. But, if I saw him again, I should know him, I feel sure I should, as I’ve known you.” “Did they quarrel, the two men?” She shook her head. “It will all come back to me, perhaps, piece by piece; but not yet, not yet. But you were there, and you saw I did not kill him?” “What I saw I cannot tell; as with you it was all a blur. But that you did not kill him I am as sure as that the sky is above.” “I am so glad. You have made me so happy.” “It needs but a little thing to make your happiness.” “What is your name?” “You have heard it more than once. My name is Ferguson--John Ferguson.” “John!” Returning to her former self, she said it with the simplicity of a little child. She nestled close up to me, as if for comfort. My pulses throbbed. “Why is it that I feel safe when I am near you, and that the nearer I am to you the safer I feel?” “God grant that you may always feel safe when you are near to me.” My voice was husky. “I believe that I always shall feel safe when you are near; I believe I always shall.” She looked up at me with eyes in which there was something which seemed to burn into my soul. It was with difficulty I kept myself from putting my arm about her. When I spoke, it was awkwardly enough, and with a lumbering choice of ungainly words. “The tangle is greater than I thought. It seems to be drawing us together. God moves in a mysterious way, and it maybe His purpose that, under this blood-red shadow, our lives shall draw closer to each other. For my part, I am content.” I waited for her to speak; she was still; but she rested one hand upon my arm, and I trembled. “Don’t let yourself be troubled by fantastic fears. Rest assured that your heart is stainless as are your hands. I know. Look up, the light is coming! Your innocence will be made plain to all the world, and to yourself. For it seems that of yourself you’re chief doubter.” “I did doubt; I’m easier now. I don’t doubt at all when you are near. I wonder why?” “I wonder, too. But, come, there are a dozen things which I must do. You must be bundled off. Mrs. Peddar, where is this young lady’s hat?” Mrs. Peddar passed into an inner room, presently returning with a hat. While its owner was putting it on, Miss Adair came up to me. I had been aware that the two women had been watching us with wide-open eyes and gaping mouths; now one of them gave partial expression to her feelings. “What on earth is there between you two? Have you known each other all your lives, or did you meet for the first time last night?” “That is a question for the metaphysicians. I seem to have known her all my life.” “And has she known you all hers? Is that what I’m to think?”