“It is only a matter of form, mother,” he said, soothingly. “On the face of yesterday’s evidence, they could do nothing else. All well, I shall be down again to-morrow. It is only a little temporary inconvenience; for my lawyer, who is one of the cleverest men of his profession, feels certain that he can disprove the charge.” “It is monstrous even to suspect you of it,” said Kitty. “If they only knew you, they would not dare even to hint at such a thing.” Molly said nothing. But he knew what her thoughts were. “I must send a note to your father, dear,” he said. “He anticipated this and made me promise to communicate with him directly it should come to pass.” He thereupon went to a writing-table in the corner of the room and wrote a hurried note to Sir Vivian, after which he rang the bell and gave orders that it should be taken to the Court without a moment’s delay. “Now,” he said, when he had examined his watch and found that it was nearly half-past five, “I must bid you good-bye. Do not be anxious about me. I am proudly conscious of my own innocence, and I feel sure that, by this time to-morrow, the public will be aware of it also.” But his mother was not to be comforted. She clung to him with the tears streaming down her cheeks, as if she could not let him go. “Mother dear,” said Kitty, “you must be brave. Think of Godfrey, and don’t send him away more unhappy than he is.” “I will be brave,” she said, and drew his face down to hers and kissed him. “Good-bye, my dear boy. May God in His mercy bless you and send you safely back to us!” When Kitty had kissed him, she drew her mother back into the ingle nook in order that Godfrey and Molly might say good-bye to each other in private. Then Godfrey took Molly in his arms. “Good-bye, my own dearest,” she said. “I shall pray for you continually. Night and day you will be in my thoughts.” He could not answer her, but kissed her passionately. Then, disengaging himself from her embrace, he left the room. Returning to the library, he informed the detective that he was at his disposal, at the same time telling him that, if they desired to catch the 6.10 at Detwich, they had no time to lose. “We had better be going, then,” said the man, and leaving the library they proceeded into the hall. Godfrey’s bag had already been placed in the cab, and the gray-haired old butler, Williamson, was standing at the foot of the stairs holding the door open. “Good-bye, Williamson,” said Godfrey. “I know that I can safely leave everything in your hands.” “You can, sir,” the man replied, simply; and then for the first time in his life he allowed himself to become familiar with his master, and laying his hand on his arm he added, “May God bless you, sir, and send you back to us soon!” Then the cab rolled away down the drive, and Godfrey’s journey to prison had commenced.