She was right, for the horses were tearing over the ground in the last mile of the last stage, with Christie Bayle almost as breathless, as he sat back pale with excitement, and trembling for the news he had to impart. At the end of the trial and in his desire to keep his word, all had seemed strange and confused. He could feel nothing but that he had to get back to King's Castor and tell her all. It was her command. But now that he was rapidly nearing home, the horror of his position began to weigh him down, and he felt ready to shrink from his duty, but all the time there was a sensation as if something was urging him on, fast as the horses seemed to fly. The miles had seemed leagues before. This last seemed not a quarter its length; for there was the mill, there Thickens's cottage, there the great draper's, the market-place, the "George," before which the horses were checked covered with foam. With the feeling still upon him that he could not bear this news, and that it should have been brought by Sir Gordon, who had refused to come, he ran across to Miss Heathery's house, and when he reached the door, it was opened. He stepped in and it was closed by Mrs Luttrell, who was trembling like a leaf. "Come here! quick!" Bayle knew and yet did not recognise the voice, it was so changed; but, as in a dream, he went past the little candlestick on the passage bracket, and in at the open parlour-door, where the light of the shaded globe lamp fell upon Millicent's pale face. "Father! mother!" she said quickly. "Leave us. I must hear the news alone!" The doctor's eyes sought Bayle's, but his face was contracted as he stood there, hat and cloak in hand, pale as if from a sick-bed and his eyes closed. Then he and Millicent were alone, and, as if stung by some agonising mental pang, he said wildly: "No, no! Your father--mother! Let me tell them." Millicent rose slowly, and laid her hand upon his arm. "You bear me news of my husband," she said, in an unnaturally calm voice. "I know: it is the worst!" He made no reply, but looked at her beseechingly. "I can bear it now," she said, shivering like one whom pain had ended by numbing against further agony. "I see it is the worst; he is condemned!" There was a faint smile upon her lips as he caught her hands in his. "You forced me to this," he said hoarsely, "and you will hate me more for giving you this pain." "No," she said, speaking in the same unnaturally calm, strained manner. "No: for I have misjudged you, Christie Bayle. Boy and man, you were always true to me. And--and--he is condemned?" His eyes alone spoke, and then she tottered as if she would have fallen, but he caught her, and placed her in a chair. "Yes: I know--I knew it must be," she said with her eyes half-closed. "Every one will know now!" "Let me call your father in?" he whispered.