"You!" The voice expressed astonishment, disbelief, hatred, scorn; a whole gamut of disordered passion, as some all-comprehending sixth sense told Montrose. Then the sick man relapsed into insensibility. "Help me to carry him to Tremore one of you," said Montrose, rising and looking at the men, who were staring curiously at him in the mingled light of the moon and the lanterns. "The sooner a doctor sees him the better." "I can take him along with my mate here, sir," said a coastguard gruffly; "if you go you will be arrested for the murder of that old foreign cove." "As I am innocent I don't mind being arrested. And if you two hand me over to the police I understand that a certain reward----" "Don't speak like that, sir," broke in the other man hastily; "a gentleman what risked his life to save him as was hunting him down ain't no murderer." "Thank you," said Montrose thankfully and simply. "All the same I am going to surrender. Meantime, we must take the Squire home." The men stared and wondered, admiring Montrose more than ever, since he was risking his liberty as he had risked his life to save the man who was so bitter against him. One coastguard returned to the station, but Montrose and the other carried the body of Enistor on a hurdle--taken from a near sheepfold--to Tremore. They took a long time to cover the distance across the dark misty moorland, and as they approached the great house Montrose little by little felt the artificial strength which had sustained him so far ebbing away. He wondered why it was leaving him: he wondered what would happen when the police took him: he wondered if Alice was still in the cave: and finally broke down altogether on the threshold of the dark house. When the coastguard rang the bell and roused the servants he handed over two insensible men to be taken indoors. Like a blood horse Montrose had kept up the pace until he reached the goal, and then had fallen into as unconscious a state as that of the man whom he had saved. But as his senses left him he glimpsed a glorious radiance round about him: he saw the smiling, approving face of his Master, and knew that a hand was raised in benediction. And soundlessly the words of a Beatitude came to him as soft and refreshing as summer rain. "Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy!" After that gracious saying he knew no more.