"Hush, little sister," said Fred tenderly. "You are growing wild. Perhaps you will not have to go. Perhaps they will find out the right man before the time--hush!--hush!" Claire had uttered a piteous cry full of despair, as she buried her face in her hands. "I cannot bear it--I cannot bear it," she cried. "There, go--go and see him," she said quickly. "You must go. It would be too cruel to stay away from him now he is so low in spirit. Be gentle with him, Fred, if he says hard things to you; and pray--pray don't resent them. You will bear everything for my sake--say that you will." "Of course, of course." "Trouble and misery have made him irritable, and so that he hardly knows what he says at times." "Poor old fellow!" said the dragoon sadly. "Ah, Claire, my little girl, it did not want this trouble in our unhappy home." He kissed her very tenderly, and then, as if moved by some sudden impulse, he took her in his arms again and held her to his breast, whilst she clung to him as if he were her only hope, and so they remained in silence for a time. At last he loosed himself from her embrace, and stood over her as she crouched down upon the sofa. "I'm going there now, Claire," he said, "but before I go, have you anything to say to me about that night of the murder? Is there anything I ought to know, so as to be able to talk to the old man about his defence? Will he tell me all he knows about the affair--why, Claire, child, what is the matter--are you going wild?" He caught her two hands, and held her, startled by the change which had come over her, as she shrank from him in horror, with eyes dilated, face drawn and lips apart. "There, my little girl," he said, with rough tenderness, "I ought to have known better than to talk to you about it. Perhaps all will come right yet after all." Claire seemed to be so prostrated that it was some time before he attempted to leave her, and then it was upon her urging, for she seemed at last to rouse herself to action, and with feverish haste bade him go. "It is your duty, Fred," she said agitatedly, "but--but don't question him--don't say a word to him. Only go to him as the son to the father in terrible distress. Let him speak to you if he will." "But his defence, girl, his defence. Something must be done, and I am without a guinea in the world." "Mr Barclay--Mr Linnell are arranging that without his knowledge," said Claire. "I had forgotten to tell you, Fred: my head seems confused and strange." "No wonder, little one," he said. "Ah, I like that Barclay. One never knows who are our friends until trouble comes--and young Linnell. It isn't a time to talk about such things now, Clairy; but young Linnell's a good fellow, and he thinks a great deal of you." Claire joined her hands as if begging him to be silent, and he once more kissed her, and after begging Mrs Barclay to watch over her, hurried away. Volume Three, Chapter XV. FATHER AND SON.