"I—I cannot believe it. You are mocking me," came inarticulately from her lips, while she drew back, step by step, till half the room lay between them.
"Mocking you? Miss Dare, he has shown his feelings so palpably, I have often trembled lest the whole court should see and understand them."
"You have trembled"—she could scarcely speak, the rush of her emotion was so great—"you have trembled lest the whole court should see he suspected me of this crime?"
"Yes."
"Then," she cried, "you must have been convinced,—Ah!" she hurriedly interposed, with a sudden look of distrust, "you are not amusing yourself with me, are you, Mr. Orcutt? So many traps have been laid for me from time to time, I dare not trust the truth of my best friend. Swear you believe Craik Mansell to have thought this of me! Swear you have seen this dark thing lying in his soul, or I——"
"What?"
"Will confront him myself with the question, if I have to tear down the walls of the prison to reach him. His mind I must and will know."
"Very well, then, you do. I have told you," declared Mr. Orcutt. "Swearing would not make it any more true."
Lifting her face to heaven, she suddenly fell on her knees.
"O God!" she murmured, "help me to bear this great joy!"