ella put her
arm round his waist, and guided his unsteady footsteps.

When they were in the streets she said: "I don't know what our
landlord will say to my bringing you home in this state. I expect we
are fastened out, so that he'll have to come down and let us in."

"I don't know--I don't know."

"That's the worst of not having a home of your own. I tell you,
Jude, what we had best do. Come round to my father's--I made it up
with him a bit to-day. I can let you in, and nobody will see you at
all; and by to-morrow morning you'll be all right."

"Anything--anywhere," replied Jude. "What the devil does it matter
to me?"

They went along together, like any other fuddling couple, her arm
still round his waist, and his, at last, round hers; though with no
amatory intent; but merely because he was weary, unstable, and in
need of support.

"This--is th' Martyrs'--burning-place," he stammered as they
dragged across a broad street. "I remember--in old Fuller's _Holy
State_--and I am reminded of it--by our passing by here--old Fuller
in his _Holy State_ says, that at the burning of Ridley, Doctor
Smith--preached sermon, and took as his text _'Though I give my body
to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.'_--Often
think of it as I pass here. Ridley was a--"

"Yes. Exactly. Very thoughtful of you, deary, even though it hasn't
much to do with our present business."

"Why, yes it has! I'm giving my body to be burned! But--ah you
don't understand!--it wants Sue to understand such things! And I
was her seducer--poor little girl! And she's gone--and I don't care
about myself! Do what you like with me! ... And yet she did it for
conscience' sake, poor little Sue!"

"Hang her!--I mean, I think she was right," hiccuped Arabella. "I've
my feelings too, like her; and I feel I belong to you in Heaven's
eye, and to nobody else, till death us do part! It is--hic--never
too late--hic to mend!"

They had reached her father's house, and she softly unfastened the
door, groping about for a light within.

The circumstances were not altogether unlike those of their entry
into the cottage at Cresscombe, such a long time before. Nor were
perhaps Arabella's motives. But Jude did not think of that, though
she did.

"I can't find the matches, dear," she said when she had fastened up
the door. "But never mind--this way. As quiet as you can, please."

"It is as dark as pitch," said Jude.

"Give me