ried.

He had not expected this. It had become a sort of settled conviction
in his mind that he would have to die alone and uncomforted. He had a
vague idea that people would be allowed to see him, but no definite
hopes had ever come into his mind. Perhaps he had wondered why he had
been left so long alone, but he had never doubted Mary's love.

Regardless of the fact that the warder stood there, the man who, as it
seemed to him, was coarse and almost brutal, watching his every action,
listening to his every word, he threw open his arms: "Mary, my love!"

A minute later she was sobbing out her grief on his shoulder.

"I wanted to come before, Paul," she said; "but father did not think it
best."

"No, no; I understand. Oh, Mary, it's heaven to me to see you, to hear
you speak, to hold you like this; but I almost wish you had not come.
Why should you suffer?"

"I have come, Paul, because I could not help it, and because---- Oh, I
want to tell you something. Must this man stay?"

"Can you not go and leave us alone?" said Paul to the man.

The warder shook his head. "Against rules!"

"But surely you need not listen to what--to what--my--that is, this
young lady has to say to me."

The man did not speak. Perhaps he had some glimmering of
understanding, perhaps he realised the position better than they
thought.

"Whisper it, Mary," said Paul, still holding her to his heart.

"Paul, you are innocent."

"Yes," he said. "I am innocent. I fought for my life as hard as I
could; but law is not justice, Mary. It's a huge legal machine."

"And Paul," she whispered, "you have believed all along that someone
else was guilty. You have believed it was your mother."

She felt him shudder as she spoke the words.

"_I_ believed it, too. It came to me one day that you were trying to
shield her, and that was why you have allowed yourself to be here. You
could have cleared yourself else, couldn't you?"

She knew by the deep sigh that escaped him how her words moved him.

"On the day when my father made that confession," she went on, "I found
out where your mother was, and went to see her. I had made up my mind
to obtain a confession of guilt from her. Oh, Paul, it's terribly hard
to tell you this, and I know that you'll hardly be able to forgive me;
but it was all for you! You believe that, don't you?"

"Go on, Mary. Tell me what it is."

"I went back to Brunford with her. You see she knew who I was b