"I turned aside on my journey to see an old military friend--whom, by the way, I found to be out--and did not get to Deerham until past ten," explained Captain Cannonby. "I thought it too late to invade you, so put up here until this morning." Lionel linked his arm within Captain Cannonby's, and drew him onwards. The moment of confirmation was come. His mind was in too sad a state to allow of his beating about the bush; his suspense had been too sharp and urgent for him to prolong it now. He plunged into the matter at once. "You have come to bring me some unpleasant news, Captain Cannonby. Unhappily, it will be news no longer. But you will give me the confirming particulars." Captain Cannonby looked as if he did not understand. "Unpleasant news?" he repeated. "I speak"--and Lionel lowered his voice--"of Frederick Massingbird. You know, probably, what I would ask. How long have you been cognisant of these unhappy facts?" "I declare, Mr. Verner, I don't know what you mean," was Captain Cannonby's answer, given in a hearty tone. "To what do you allude?" Lionel paused. Was it possible that he--Captain Cannonby--was in ignorance? "Tell me one thing," he said. "Your brother mentioned that you had heard, as he believed, some news connected with me and--and my wife, in Paris, which had caused you to hurry home, and come down to Verner's Pride. What was that news?" "The news I heard was, that Mrs. Massingbird had become Mrs. Verner. I had intended to find her out when I got to Europe, if only to apologise for my negligence in not giving her news of John Massingbird or his property--which news I could never gather for myself--but I did not know precisely where she might be. I heard in Paris that she had married you, and was living at Verner's Pride." Lionel drew a long breath. "And that was all?" "That was all." Then he was in ignorance of it! But, to keep him in ignorance was impossible. Lionel must ask confirmation or non-confirmation of the death. With low voice and rapid speech he mentioned the fears and the facts. Captain Cannonby gathered them in, withdrew his arm from Lionel's, and stood staring at him. "Fred Massingbird alive, and come back to England!" he uttered, in bewildered wonder. "We cannot think otherwise," replied Lionel. "Then, Mr. Verner, I tell you that it cannot be. It _cannot_ be, you understand. I saw him die. I saw him laid in the grave." They had not walked on. They stood there, looking at each other, absorbed in themselves, oblivious to the attention that might be fixed on them from any stray passers-by. At that moment there were no passers-by to fix it; the bustle of Deerham only began with the houses, and those they had not yet reached. "I would give all my future life to believe you," earnestly spoke Lionel; "to believe that there can be no mistake--for my wife's sake."