"At any rate, don't keep me now," she said, a shiver pa.s.sing through her frame. "When I come back I will talk with you as long as you like; but I am in a great hurry. We can talk over-over what you mean (I am sure I cannot imagine what it can be) when I come back."

"We must talk now," cried Leslie; "it will be too late when you come back. Annie, I have something to confess to you; and you-G.o.d knows you have something terrible to confess to me; but my confession comes first.

I followed you the night before last. After the meeting at East Hall I came back to our room and found you absent. I was restless and miserable about you, and I went out to look for you. I was standing near the boat-house when you landed with-with--"

"You saw us?" cried Annie. "Then you are a sneak-a spy. You saw us, and you--"

"Yes, I saw you. I stood in the shadow, and I heard what you said. The man who was with you--"

"Don't dare to say a word against him!" cried Annie.

"Yes, I will. He is a rascal; a scoundrel."

"Oh, he is my brother!" cried Annie; "the only one I love in all the world; and you dare not abuse him. What right have you?"

"I have every right, Annie; I know the truth. He wanted money; I heard him say so. He spoke cruelly to you; and you-you promised to help him.

You were in great trouble, and I pitied you from my very soul. I did not know; I could not guess that you would make use of me; the crudest, the most terrible use. You forged a letter in my name, and you took it to my friend, Mr. Parker."

"How-how can you know?" said Annie. Her voice had sunk to the lowest whisper. Leslie had to strain her ears to catch the words.

"I know in the best possible way, and from the best authority," replied Leslie. "Mr. Parker came to see me to-day, and he told me everything."

"And you betrayed me?"

Annie flung herself suddenly on her knees; she covered her face with her shaking hands.

"Oh! and I thought myself safe," she continued. "I have lived through such awful agony-misery beyond words was mine; and just when I thought myself safe. Oh, I was resting to-day, I was so tired; but all my security was false, and I am done for-ruined. Why was I ever born?"

She uttered a piercing cry, and fell forward on her face and hands.

"Get up, Annie; don't kneel like that. I did not betray you."

"You did not betray me? Do you mean what you are saying?" Annie started up now, came close to Leslie, and tried to take her hand. "Mr. Parker came here today, and told you what I did yesterday, and you did not tell him the truth? Oh, you angel! Oh, you darling! All my life, as long as I live, I will live for you, and devote myself to you. Oh, you darling; you brave darling!"

"Don't," said Leslie. "You would not speak those words to me if you knew what I felt in my heart. Do you think I love you now? No; I am scarcely sorry for you. I simply feel that I cannot betray you."

"Then, all is well," said Annie. "I don't mind in the least at the present moment whether you hate me or not. I declare now, and I shall always maintain it, that you are the n.o.blest girl in the world."

"But, Annie, do you quite understand? You cannot mean to go on with this. Now that you know what it is to me, you must-you must make rest.i.tution. You cannot allow Mr. Parker to go on thinking day after day, month after month, and year after year, that I was really guilty of the terrible sin and meanness of going into debt for sixty pounds, and then sending you to him to ask him to pay my debt. You cannot mean this, Annie?"

"Yes, I do mean it; and so would you if you had a brother like Rupert, and you felt that all his future depended on your helping him. What are you compared to Rupert? He is the only one in the world I pa.s.sionately love. Oh, there, the clock has struck ten, and he will be waiting for me. If he does not get that sixty pounds to-night he will be desperate.

The police are after him, I know; he will be locked up. Oh! what is your grief compared to his misery? Leslie, I am going out; you did not betray me to-day, and you won't betray me now. Let me go, let me go."

"Not without me," said Leslie with sudden firmness. "If you go, I shall go; but if you refuse, I will speak to--"

"Oh, don't! don't! come if you wish; anything, so that we get to him at once. He will be put in prison, sent to penal servitude; and I shall go mad, raving mad. Come; be quick, be quick!"

Annie dragged Leslie by her arm, not allowing her time to utter another word. The girls flew downstairs together, and a moment later were out, with the stars looking down at them, and the moon shining on the beautiful river.

CHAPTER XXII

THE PROMISE.

Annie dragged her companion in the direction of the boat-house. A man was standing in the deepest shadow. When the girls came up he took a step forward, then, seeing two, he started back.

"It is all right, Rupert," cried Annie. "I-I have got the money."

Leslie, who was watching him attentively, saw him change color. He had a bronzed cheek and a keen, dark eye. The bronze left his cheek now, and his eyes flashed fire.

"Is it true?" he said.

Annie held out both her hands to him. He clasped them so tight that it was with difficulty she could repress a cry; but as he did so he looked beyond her at Leslie. There was alarm and incredulity in his glance.

"It is all right; I brought her here, or, rather, she would come. It is through her I got it. All my life I must thank her for what she has done for you."

"This is more than I can bear," cried Leslie. "I have come here, it is true, Mr. Colchester; but not for the purpose you think. I have come here to tell you what I think of you. I do not know what trouble you have got into, nor do I wish to know; but I do know what your sister has done. I blame her-yes, I blame her most bitterly; but I blame you more."

"Don't tell, don't tell!" cried Annie. She came up to Leslie, and tried to put her hand across her mouth.

"I will tell him; but no one else," said Leslie. "He must know; he drove you to it, and he must know. Listen," she added. She came up close to Rupert Colchester, and stared him full in the face.

"Your sister wrote a letter in my name to my best friend. She wrote it to the man who is kinder to me than anyone else in the world. She signed the letter with my signature, and he thought that it came from me.

Having written the letter, she made an excuse to go to London yesterday, and took it to him. It contained a request to give me, because I had gone into debt, sixty pounds. The money was to be given in notes and gold. She brought the money back, and now she, not I, is giving it to you."

"Indeed!" said the man. He started back. He looked from Annie to Leslie.

"I didn't know you were clever enough for that," he said; "it seems to run in our blood-I mean the capacity for thieving. I did not know you could do it. You are clever enough, Annie, and you have cheek enough; but to do that, to commit a forgery, and to drag another girl in!"

"It was done for you, and you of all people ought not to blame her,"

said Leslie.

"You had cheek," repeated Colchester. He laid his hand lightly on his sister's shoulder. "I thank you from my heart, of course, and you, too, Miss-Miss-I don't know your name."

"You had better not know it; I don't want you to. Yes, she did it, and Mr. Parker thinks that I am guilty. Do you quite realize, both of you, what Annie Colchester has done?"

"I realize it fast enough," said Colchester; "but you are a merciful girl. I see it in your eyes."

"Nevertheless, I will state the position quite plainly. Your sister, by writing such a letter, committed forgery."

Annie uttered a deep groan, and covered her face. After a moment she raised her eyes, and glanced at Rupert. He was not looking at her; he was staring at Leslie.

"Try and keep quiet, Annie, and allow me to speak," continued Leslie. "I do not intend to betray her. But I want you to know, Mr. Colchester, what it has cost me; it has nearly driven me mad. Think what it must mean to me. Mr. Parker imagines that I am the sort of girl who will go into debt, and then come to him to clear me. Do you know that because of this he came to Wingfield to-day? He sought me out; he spoke to me; he was in the deepest distress."

"And you-you confided in him?" said Rupert Colchester. "Few girls would be n.o.ble enough--"