ide. "I tell you it
must stop! What right have you to fling these infamous hints at me?"

Jernyngham broke into a harsh laugh.

"The part of an innocent man is too much for you to play; we won't force
you into it. It will be a favor if you will have our baggage sent across
here; needless to say, neither my daughter nor I can re-enter your
house." Then his self-control deserted him and he broke out in hot fury:
"I firmly believe you are the man who killed my son, and you shall not
escape!"

"I think," said Colston quietly, "that is going too far."

Making no answer, Prescott left them; and he was harnessing his horse
outside when, somewhat to his astonishment, Muriel came toward him. A
half-moon hung low above the bluff and the silvery light shone into her
face, showing her warmth of color and the sparkle in her eyes. He thought
she looked wonderfully attractive and his heart throbbed faster, but he
knew he must hold himself in hand.

"Hadn't you better go back?" he asked. "You have heard what your friends
think of me."

"What does that matter?" she exclaimed with feeling. "I'm very angry with
them. I can't let you go without saying that I know you could not have
done what you have been wickedly accused of."

"I'm glad. Thank you. It's a big relief to feel that you believe in me.
So long as I have that assurance nothing else counts."

"Harry Colston's not convinced; I believe he's trying to keep an open
mind."

"Is that so?" said Prescott. "I don't expect much from him. He's the kind
of man who's guided by appearances and seldom does anything out of the
common."

Muriel disregarded this.

"But you were very foolish in deceiving us. I can't understand yet why
you did so."

"I can only tell you that it was for Cyril's sake."

"Oh," she cried, "it could not have been because of any benefit that you
would get! That would never have tempted you."

He read unshaken confidence in her eyes and it cost him a stern effort to
refrain from reckless speech. Muriel was beautiful, but that was not all:
she was generous and fearless, a loyal friend and a staunch partizan.

"Well," Prescott confessed, "when I explained, I was more afraid of you
than of Jernyngham. I wanted to keep your good opinion, and I wondered
whether you had only given it to me because you thought I was Cyril
Jernyngham. From your friends' point of view Jack Prescott is a very
different kind of person."

Muriel blushed.

"Is it unpardonable th