u must not tell anyone at all, unless you hear I'm--
took--or killed," with a bitter laugh.

"Very well," said Stella. "I don't like keeping it from mother, but I
_will_ keep the secret, for your sake. I hope you will soon get some
food. Good-bye," and she held out her hand to shake hands with him.

The man took it, but did not speak, and Stella, drawing her hand away, ran
down the aisle and through the church as fast as she could. Not until she
was outside did she realise how her limbs were trembling, and she wondered
how she should ever get back to the cottage and escape notice and
questioning. But in her great desire to shield the man she made such
efforts to laugh and talk and be like her usual self, and Michael had so
much to say too, that nothing unusual was observed in her look or manner.
And if, during the next few days, any of them thought her unusually quiet
and thoughtful, it was all put down to the shock the burglar had given her
that night, no one dreaming that she had had a long and solitary interview
with that same desperate creature, and had come out of it unhurt.

But only for a week did her silence last, for at the end of that time the
poor, wretched convict was captured, miles from Windycross, just as he was
making his way to a train which would have borne him, probably, to safety.
As usual, all sympathy was with the captured man, but to Stella his arrest
was a real and lasting grief, and when amidst many bitter tears she told
the story of her adventure at Windycross, her one hope was that he did not
think she was in any way concerned in his capture.

CHAPTER XIII.

PAUL CONFESSES.

But though Stella recovered so well, and so much more quickly than they
had dared to hope, from the shock she had received that night, Paul
remained ill and low in spirits and in strength. Of course at first he
was very weak from loss of blood and shock, and no one wondered; but, as
time went on, and in spite of all that was done for him, he did not pick
op health as they expected him to. They fed him, and physicked him, and
tried to cheer him, but nothing seemed to do him any good, until at last
the doctor, the same who had pulled him out of the morass, and carried
Stella home, began to be puzzled about him. "Has he anything on his mind
that can be troubling him?" he asked Mr. Anketell, one day. "Something is
keeping him back; he is spiritless and depressed. It must be his mind;
his body is sound enou