“It is attractive to look at,” he agreed, peering through the dusk. “But--he is pretty well forgotten by this time, I dare say?” “Well, if he is, it isn’t fair! It isn’t fair at all!” she cried. He had nothing to say. “Mr. Langley, the minister, whom everybody looks up to, thought ever so much of Mr. Cartwright. I don’t believe he has forgotten him,” she asserted. “Mr. Langley! You know Mr. Langley!” he exclaimed. “O tell me of him, please.” “I have only seen him to speak to him once. But he is--O very impressive--I mean you take to him and feel he’s wonderful just as those who have always known him do.” “How does he look? But I shall see him. I must. I’ll see him to-night. Does--but I ought not to let you stay here longer. It’s dark already. My name is John Converse. May I ask to whom I am indebted for this kindness?” “I am Alice Lorraine,” she said, rising reluctantly. He asked if he might walk to the Hollow with her. The girl hesitated, wondering if it were safe for him. “I am sorry I am so shabby, Miss Lorraine,” he said. “I have decent clothes over at Marsden Bridge where I am staying--I didn’t dare risk Wenham--but I am less likely to be recognized in these.” They set out at once. But they had gone only a few rods beyond the lane when the sound of light footsteps came clearly to them in the absolute stillness of the damp autumn evening. “That’s Mr. Langley,” he said quietly. “I’ll have to leave you. He’s the one person I dare not meet even in black night.” “O wait!” begged Alice in agonised whisper, panic stricken at the thought that she would never see him again. But at that moment a dark figure appeared in sight. Alice pressed the keys into the stranger’s hand. “To-morrow at four. I’ll come to the shop,” she whispered. John Converse disappeared into the bushes by the roadside. It was barely a minute before Mr. Langley had stopped and was calling her by name. “Why Miss Lorraine, is it indeed you?” he cried, surprised to see the girl out alone after dark. He bade her come back as far as the Smiths’ with him that he might get their horse and drive her back to Miss Penny’s, giving her no opportunity to refuse. They were hardly in the carriage when Alice turned to the minister. “Mr. Langley, I heard lately of a man returning to his birthplace after years of absence longing to find out all about the friends of his boyhood and to see them if he could do it secretly. How would you account for such a thing?” Though Mr. Langley was quite accustomed to being bombarded with odd questions, sometimes hypothetical, sometimes otherwise, he hesitated now. He could not say to this girl whose father was in prison that the obvious solution of her problem was that the man had committed a crime and was a fugitive from justice or was ashamed of his record. But before the pause became awkward an happy suggestion came to his mind.