"They might as well try to catch a flash of lightning," said Carwell, gloomily. "Lee has had twelve hours' start of them, and, now he has accomplished his vengeance, I do not think he will be seen in these parts again. I hope he will go free," added the farmer, unconsciously echoing the wish of Miss Arnott. "After all, he only gave Mayne what he deserved." "Brother Carwell, that is not the speech of a Christian." "Perhaps not; but it is hard to be a Christian under the circumstances." Clearly, Parmer Carwell's character and temper had not improved under the trouble that had come upon him. Yet Johnson, in spite of his sacred profession, did not feel called upon to reprove the old man over much. To know that his only child loved a proven scoundrel and wished to marry him was provocation indeed. And Rachel, in the face of all she knew, declared her intention of becoming Mayne's wife when he recovered. She had a thousand excuses for his conduct. "Men are weak," said Rachel, when her father tried to reason her out of this infatuation, "and Herbert is no worse than the rest of them. That girl Zara tempted him, and he fell. It was honourable of him to make her his wife. I dare say he need not have done so." "Rachel! Rachel! Is it my child who speaks thus?" "I love Herbert more than my own soul," answered Rachel, and from this strange perverse attitude she could not be moved. For the next two or three days Herbert's life hung as by a thread. The doctor almost gave him up, but in the end he rallied. His own strong constitution and Rachel's tender nursing prevailed, and he slowly grew stronger. Then he repented, and wept in his weakness; implored Rachel not to leave him, and declared that it was for her sake that he had bribed Slade. Rachel required little persuasion to believe in these protestations, which were perhaps quite sincere. Base as Herbert had proved himself to be, he truly loved her, and, knowing this, she promised to marry him as soon as he could leave his bed. Although Carwell anticipated that her obstinacy would lead to this result, he was in despair at the prospect of its realization. As the days went by, Inspector Chard made all search for Lee, but failed to find a trace of him. From the moment he ran out into the night the man had not been seen. His tribe knew nothing of him--or said they knew nothing,--and, although the police scoured the country for miles around, no trace of the fugitive could be discovered. Then Chard relaxed his search, and began to pay frequent visits to the farmhouse to make inquiries after Herbert's health. Rachel scented the danger. "Why do you ask so often about Herbert?" she demanded one day. "I wish to know when it will be safe to remove him to Poldew gaol," said the inspector, frankly. Rachel was not so astonished at this reply as might have been expected. "You accuse him of the murder?" said she, scornfully.