one, Richard. After the delivery of the verdict,
he took an oath in the justice-room, in the presence of his brother
magistrates, that if he could find you he would deliver you up to
justice, and that he _would_ do it, though you might not turn up for ten
years to come. You know his disposition, Richard, and therefore may be
sure he will keep it. Indeed, it is most dangerous for you to be here."

"I know that he never treated me as he ought," cried Richard, bitterly.
"If my health was delicate, causing my poor mother to indulge me, ought
that to have been a reason for his ridiculing me on every possible
occasion, public and private? Had my home been made happier I should not
have sought the society I did elsewhere. Barbara, I must be allowed an
interview with my mother."

Barbara Hare reflected before she spoke. "I do not see how it can be
managed."

"Why can't she come out to me as you have done? Is she up, or in bed?"

"It is impossible to think of it to-night," returned Barbara in an
alarmed tone. "Papa may be in at any moment; he is spending the evening
at Beauchamp's."

"It is hard to have been separated from her for eighteen months, and to
go back without seeing her," returned Richard. "And about the money? It
is a hundred pounds that I want."

"You must be here again to-morrow night, Richard; the money, no doubt,
can be yours, but I am not so sure about your seeing mamma. I am
terrified for your safety. But, if it is as you say, that you are
innocent," she added, after a pause, "could it not be proved?"

"Who is to prove it? The evidence is strong against me; and Thorn, did I
mention him, would be as a myth to other people; nobody knew anything of
him."

"Is he a myth?" said Barbara, in a low voice.

"Are you and I myths?" retorted Richard. "So, even you doubt me?"

"Richard," she suddenly exclaimed, "why not tell the whole circumstances
to Archibald Carlyle? If any one can help you, or take measures to
establish your innocence, he can. And you know that he is true as
steel."

"There's no other man living should be trusted with the secret that I am
here, except Carlyle. Where is it they suppose that I am, Barbara?"

"Some think that you are dead; some that you are in Australia; the very
uncertainty has nearly killed mamma. A report arose that you had been
seen at Liverpool, in an Australian-bound ship, but we could not trace
it to any foundation."

"It had none. I dodged my way to London, and the