"I shall be better now," answered the poor girl, turning her face away.
"Ah, yes, everything will turn out right as soon as I can see him. Anyway, my lips shall never tell a word of it. All the courts in the world could not draw that out of me. He thought I was doubting him—that I meant to harm him, may be. Youth is so quick to act—so quick!"
"Oh, father, did he—did he do it?" cried Ruth, with a quick, passionate outburst.
"Have I not said that nothing should make me answer that, lass? No one shall hurt the young master with my help."
Ruth questioned her father no more. His words had confirmed her worst fears. It seemed to her as if all the world had arrayed itself against her feeble strength. But one ray of light broke through her troubles. Her father was better. He evidently believed in her. The bitter pain had all gone out from his heart. He smiled upon her when she left the room, and tasted of the breakfast she prepared for him with something like a return of appetite.
CHAPTER XXX.
THE BARMAID OF THE TWO RAVENS.
NORSTON'S REST" had its village lying within a mile of the park gate, mostly inhabited by the better sort of small tradespeople, with laborers' cottages scattered here and there on the outskirts, with more or less picturesqueness. From the inhabitants of this village and a large class of thrifty farmers, tenants on the estate, the public house drew its principal support.
One evening, just after the heir of "Norston's Rest" and its gardener were taken up wounded and insensible in the park, a party of these persons was assembled in the public room, talking over the exciting news. Among them was young Storms, who was referred to and called upon for information more frequently than seemed pleasant to him.