She bent nearer to him, kissed him on the lips, and whispered: "Listen. I will do all you wish, because--because I love you. Can you hear me?" He smiled and gripped her hands more tightly. Bending to him again, she caught the whisper as she touched his lips: "God--is very good." And then his eyes closed, and he died. For a little time she sat holding him in her arms; then resolutely--remembering her promise--she got up and laid him gently at the foot of the statue, and caught the old man by the hand and ran down the hill toward the town. All was quiet. She noticed, as they went along swiftly, that the old man, who still carried the pistol in his hand, had lost the old strong dominant look from his face and was weak and passive as a child. She took the pistol from him, shuddering a little as she touched it, and hid it in her dress; took him to the door of his shop and thrust him in, and bade him, as she left him, be silent and to tell no one of his dreams. As she came out into the little street again, shaking from head to foot and striving to master her tears, the old man ran after her. He was smiling foolishly. "I dreamt there was blood upon him; but that--that was long ago, wasn't it?" "Yes, yes; long ago," she whispered hurriedly. "Go back, and tell no one your dream." Fortunately she had ordered a carriage very early, that she might drive to Deal in time to meet Miss Carlaw. She kept her veil down as she entered the inn and got away from it as quickly as possible, refusing anything to eat. She scarcely dared speak to any one lest she should betray her agitation. Safely in the carriage at last, she knew that she must pass almost within sight of the spot where the statue stood with the dead man lying at its foot; it seemed horrible to have to go away and leave him there--dead--to be found by strangers. And then, with another burst of tears, she remembered how he had smiled as he died, and how she had promised to keep all knowledge of it from the old woman. Humbled and broken and afraid, she clasped her hands before her face and prayed silently for strength to keep that promise to him at least. She was grateful to think, for the first time, when she reached Deal that her companion was blind and could not see her face. Miss Carlaw, guessing perhaps that her visit to the old place had awakened sorrowful memories, said but little to her and left her to herself when, after reaching Dover, they took the night boat for Calais. And while most of the passengers were asleep 'Linda crept on deck and stole to the side of the vessel and dropped the heavy, old-fashioned pistol into the sea. CHAPTER XXX. AUNT CHARLOTTE ATTENDS A CELEBRATION. "You have not yet told me why you returned so suddenly to England," said 'Linda.