done he refused flatly to see him.

"A doctor" he muttered, "would feel my forehead and ask me questions.
Their madhouses are full enough without me. I've work to do yet."

She spoke to him soothingly as to a child.

"David," she said, "we have a little money--not much, but such as it is
you must share. I cannot have you go about starved or in rags."

He staggered up.

"I'm off. Keep your money. I've no use for it."

She stood in front of the door, her jaws were set and there was a
bright, hard light in her eyes.

"You'll not go yet," she said. "You've a secret you're keeping from me.
It's my concern as well as yours. We'll talk of it together, David."

"I'll talk of it with no living soul," he answered thickly. "Out of my
way."

But Joan neither moved nor quailed.

"They will have it that Douglas Guest was killed," she said. "I have
never believed it. I do not believe it now. He is keeping out of the
way because of what he did that night."

"Ay," he muttered. "Likely enough."

"We must find him," she continued. "Day by day we have searched. You
shall help. If he be not guilty he knows the truth, and he hides. So I
say that if he lives we must find him."

"Guilty enough," he muttered. "He is in her toils. Let me pass, sister
Joan."

"You have seen him?" she cried. "You know that he is alive?"

"Ay, alive," he answered. "He's alive."

"You have seen him?"

"Yes."

"Tell me where and when." "By chance," he said hesitating--"in the
streets."

She wrung her hands.

"Have I not walked the streets," she moaned, "till my feet have been
sore with blisters and my head dizzy! Yet I have never met him."

He stood with his hand upon his chin, thinking as well as he might.
What did he owe to Douglas Guest, the friend of Emily de Reuss,
successful where he had failed? Had he not seen their hands joined? He
drew a breath which sounded like a hiss.

"I thought," he muttered, "that it had been a woman, yet--who knows? It
may have been Douglas Guest--and Joan, there was truth in your thought.
He lives. I cannot tell you where. I cannot help you find him, for I
have another task. Yet he lives. I tell you that. Now let me go."

Her eyes flashed with something which was like joy. She had forgotten
David's wandering words. All the time her instincts had been true.

"Let me go, Joan."

She laid her hands upon his shoulders.

"We are brother and sister," she said, "and what is mine is yours. Stay
and share wi