No! In all Martin Gurwood's clerical career (and the experiences of a zealous and earnest clergyman in an agricultural district are fraught with more horrors, and tend to a lower appreciation of the human race than the uninitiated would believe), he had never had to deal with such a case as this. In his reproof he could temper justice with mercy, in his consolation he could bid 'despair and anguish flee the struggling soul;' but to attempt now to cast down the idol from its pedestal, to attempt to show to the heartbroken woman, whose sobs were resounding through the room, that the man whose loss she was deploring had been her worst and bitterest enemy, to point out that the emotion which he had exhibited at the story of the outcast woman and her baby, was merely caused by 'the conscience-prick and the memory-smart,' proving to him the similarity of his own crime with that of the man on whom he was invited to sit in judgment--to do all or any of this was beyond Martin Gurwood's power; he ought to have done it, he knew, but he was only human after all, and he decided to leave it alone. The story of the frozen woman with the baby in her arms--his thoughts had wandered away to that--slight and delicate was she, and with long chestnut hair--what a strange coincidence! That this man, who had himself deceived a young and trusting woman, should by his unsuspecting victim be called upon to exercise his charity towards another victim, should be expected to denounce the crime of which he had himself been guilty! How strange to think that--Martin was interrupted in his reverie by a movement on Alice's part. She had risen to her feet, twisted her dishevelled hair into a knot behind her head, and stood pale and statuesque before him. 'I shall be ready in five minutes,' she said, 'and I shall then expect you to take me straight to where my husband's body is lying. If you refuse to do so, I shall call upon you to tell me where it is--to give me the address. I have a right as his wife--O, my God!' she moaned--'as his widow! to demand that, and I shall do so.' The critical time had arrived. Martin knew that, and felt stronger and more self-reliant than he had anticipated. The fact was, that he thought he saw a way of tiding the matter over until he could communicate with Humphrey Statham, and possibly get his friend to take the burden of the disclosure upon himself. 'My dear madam,' he said, 'I can quite appreciate your anxiety, which is perfectly natural under the circumstances, and which I shall be most anxious to alleviate; but I must ask you to have a little patience. This evening--should you still wish it--you shall be taken to the place where Mr. Claxton's body was conveyed.' 'Where is that place, Mr. Gurwood?' cried Alice. 'There is some mystery about this which I do not understand; I insist upon knowing where this place is!'