May could leave his
son, and then he was bent on at once going to the prisoner; but he was
so shaken and tremulous, that Tom insisted on giving him his arm, and
held an umbrella over him in the driving rain.

'Father,' he said, as soon as they were in the street, 'I can swear who
did it.'

Dr. May just hindered himself from uttering the name, but Tom answered
as if it had been spoken.

'Yes. I saw the face of fiendish barbarity that once was over me, when
I was a miserable little school-boy! He did it; and he has the
receipt.'

Dr. May squeezed his arm. 'I have not betrayed the secret, have I!'

'You knew that he knew it!'

'Not knew--suspected--generosity.'

'I saw him! I saw him cast those imploring earnest eyes of his on the
scoundrel as he spoke of the receipt--and the villain try to make
himself of stone. Well, if I have one wish in life, it is to see that
fellow come to the fate he deserves. I'll never lose sight of him;
I'll dog him like a bloodhound!'

And what good will that do, when--Tom, Tom, we must move Heaven and
earth for petitions. I'll take them up myself, and get George Rivers
to take me to the Home Secretary. Never fear, while there's justice in
Heaven.'

'Here's Henry!' exclaimed Tom, withholding his father, who had almost
ran against the brother, as they encountered round a corner.

He was pale and bewildered, and hardly seemed to hear the Doctor's
hasty asseverations that he would get a reprieve.

'He sent me to meet you,' said Henry. 'He wants you to go home--to Ave
I mean. He says that is what he wants most--for you to go to her now,
and to come to him to-morrow, or when you can; and he wants to hear how
Aubrey is,' continued Henry, as if dreamily repeating a lesson.

'He saw then--?'

'Yes, and that seems to trouble him most.'

Dr. May was past speaking, and Tom was obliged to answer for him--that
Aubrey was pretty well again, and had desired his dearest, dearest
love; then asked how Leonard was.

'Calm and firm as ever,' said Henry, half choked. 'Nothing seems to
upset him, but speaking of--of you and Aubrey, Dr. May--and poor Ave.
But--but they'll be together before long.'

'No such thing,' said Dr. May. 'You will see that certainty cures,
when suspense kills; and for him, I'll never believe but that all will
be right yet. Are you going home?'

'I shall try to be with--with the dear unhappy boy as long as I can,
and then I'll come home.'

Dr. May grasped