"Well, in any case I'll be back," said the curate, with a nod; "then I shall be able to tell you the reason I had to go. In the meantime, Miss Tempest, I wish you would see Pearl Darry occasionally. She goes wandering about the moor lamenting her lost soul, poor creature. I have been with her a good deal, but while I am away she may do something desperate. You see her, Miss Tempest, and persuade her that she is under the care of the Master." "I'll do my best," replied Sybil; "but I am afraid I am not good enough to preach, Mr Raston. What a shame of Mrs Jeal to put these ideas into the girl's head! She knew that Pearl was not sane, and to make her think such things was downright dangerous." "I know." Raston sighed. "If we could only get back the cup, Pearl would be satisfied that the Master is pleased with her and has taken her into favour again. Then she would recover her old faith in the goodness and love of God which Mrs Jeal, with the best intentions, no doubt, has destroyed. I cannot think Mrs Jeal is a good woman." "I am sure she is a very bad one," said Sybil, emphatically. "However, I'll do as you wish, Mr Raston. Good-day. A pleasant journey," and she departed. The curate took out a letter, glanced at it, shook his head. He was puzzled by the communication, and knew not what to make of it. CHAPTER XVIII A MIRACLE That same afternoon Raston notified the vicar that he was going for a few days to London. On the understanding that the young man would be back for morning service on Sunday, the vicar readily consented that he should go. Raston forthwith packed his bag, and driving to Portfront stayed there the night. But for Sybil's message he would have waited until the next day, and have gone directly to London without pausing on the way. However, he wished to have a talk with Leo, both on account of Sybil's message and because he wanted to consult with the young man about the letter which worried him. This entailed a long conversation, so Raston put up at the hotel at which Leo was staying, and sent a message that he wanted to see Mr Haverleigh. Leo made his appearance, looking haggard and worried, and very much unlike his usual self. He seemed nervous on seeing Raston, and hurriedly approached him as though he expected to hear bad news. The events of the last few weeks had shaken Leo's nerves, and he was prepared for any calamity--even to hear that Pratt had been arrested. Something of the sort he expected to hear now. "Hullo, Raston!" he cried, with an affectation of brightness. "What brings you here?" "I am on my way to London," said Raston, shaking hands in a friendly fashion, "and I am staying here for the night, as I want to have a long talk with you." "Very glad," replied Leo, mechanically. Then after a pause he raised his head. "There is no bad news, I trust?" he asked anxiously. "By no means. My news is good." "Then it cannot concern me," said Leo, bitterly. "No good news ever comes my way now. What is it?"