lash of her
bright eyes? Was she not for ever seeking to minister to his comfort
and to bring sunshine into his life?

He dared not go into the town. He feared to meet the people. He could
not bear to hear their kindly words, their exclamations of delight and
joy. He knew that the sight of homely faces would unman him, and that
he would break down like a child. While the shadow of guilt was upon
him, he could be strong even as a stoic might be strong. He could bear
hard words and suspicious looks. All through the long trial he had
been composed and self-reliant, but that was over now. In a way he
could not understand, the hard crust of his nature had been broken up.
Paul felt a new man. That black, grimy town was no longer dirty and
sordid to him. It was the home of tens of thousands of kind hearts,
the home of the people he loved. He saw a meaning in their life which
he had never seen before. He had dreams of their future to which he
was a stranger in the old days. But he could not go out and meet them,
could not clasp friendly hands, could not meet smile with smile.
Perhaps it was no wonder. Paul had passed far down the deep, dark
Valley of the Shadow of Death, and it seemed at one time as though he
would never emerge into the light again, and so it was not strange he
should desire to be alone with Mary.

Night came on, and still Judge Bolitho did not come. The last train
had arrived in Brunford, but there was no news of him.

"He'll be back when he's done his work," said Mary.

"What work?" asked Paul.

"I don't know," she replied. "But, Paul, you are grieving about me.
Don't! I know what's in your mind, but it doesn't matter one bit, not
one bit, Paul!"

"But, Mary----"

"No, Paul, not one word! There, it's time for you to go to bed. Kiss
me, my love!"

He went towards her, meaning to give her a brotherly kiss, but when he
came close to her he caught her in his arms again, and held her
passionately to him.

"Good-night, Mary. May God bless you!"

"God?" she said, looking up into his face wonderingly, and there was
almost a sob in her voice. "Do you believe in Him at last?"

"May God bless you, my--no, I can't say it. Good-night!"

When Paul went to his room that night, the first night he had slept
there since the dread things which had so altered the whole of his life
came to him, he sat for a long time thinking. Again he reviewed the
past, tried to see its deeper meaning. The