ect. The reason was that Mr.
Barton was confined by weakness first to the bed, and then to the lounge
in the little sitting-room.

But on the fifth day Squire Marlowe was in luck. The mysterious boarder
was walking to and fro in the front yard attached to the cottage. When
he saw Albert Marlowe he turned away, and was about to re-enter the
house. The squire did not need this corroboration of his suspicion, for
he had already recognized Barton, though the two had not met for ten
years.

He set his face firmly; his expression became hard and dogged.

"That man must leave Lakeville!" he said to himself.

Without hesitation he opened the gate and entered the yard.

Meanwhile John Barton, seeing that he was recognized, came to a halt,
and, turning around, faced the man who had been his bitter enemy. He
showed no signs of fear, for what had happened was only what he had
anticipated.

Squire Marlowe came up and stood at his side.

"You are John Barton," he said. "Do not attempt to deny it!"

"I do not propose to deny it to you--Albert Marlowe," answered Barton,
calmly.

"You are here under an assumed name. I was told that Mrs. Barton's
boarder was named Robinson."

"I am passing under that name. You know why."

"Yes, I do know why. You are under the ban of the law. You are afraid of
being arrested and brought to trial a second time."

"I know there is danger of it, and of course I shrink from it."

"Then why do you come here? Are you mad?"

"After ten years I wished to see my wife once more. I am a sick man. I
came to her to be nursed back to health."

"Take care, or when you leave here it will be for a less desirable
boarding-place!" said the squire, in a menacing tone.

"You mean the prison?"

"Yes; that is what I mean."

"No one in Lakeville knows who I am. Why should I fear?"

"I know."

"Surely you would not betray me--you, the man who worked for years at my
side?"

"I cannot compromise with crime. It is my duty as a good, law-abiding
citizen, to denounce you to the authorities."

"You--a good, law-abiding citizen!" repeated John Barton, with scornful
emphasis.

Squire Marlowe started back in astonishment. The worm had turned.

"Do you mean to question it?" he demanded, sharply.

"Yes, I do."

"On what grounds?"

"Albert Marlowe," said John Barton, sternly, "one of us two is a thief,
but I am not the one."

"Do you mean to insult me?" exclaimed the squire, white with anger, not
unmin