"Not now, Jim. We must wait until—until Rupert's free; this charge against him disproved."
He shook his head, and, stopping, held her in his arms again. "Darling, if by any chance the worst should happen, it would make no difference to our love! Nothing would force me to give you up. That's why I'm going to announce our engagement now. Now, while this thing is hanging over our heads."
Again she would have protested, but he silenced her. "I've made up my mind, nothing can change it."
Holding her hand he led her forward and opened the gate that led into the farmhouse garden. As they entered they saw Despard lounging in a chair on the lawn reading the morning newspaper, a pipe between his lips. He glanced up as they entered, smiled at Marjorie, and without taking the pipe from his lips, or rising, gave Jim Crichton a curt nod.
"Bounder!" was the latter's silent ejaculation. But he saw old John Dale standing in the doorway, so, giving Marjorie's hand a gentle pressure, he left her.
Telling Mr. Dale he had something to say to him in private he entered the dining-room.
"You bring me bad news of my son," Dale said quietly. "I know it."
"How did you?" Jim asked, off his guard. "Surely it hasn't got into the local papers."
Dale stepped forward instantly, then, gripping the back of his chair, sat down. "So, it's true," he said in a broken voice. "It's true." He gave a mirthless laugh. Jim tried to speak, but the words refused to come. He would have done anything to spare the father of the girl he loved. He would have borrowed the money from his father, hushed the affair up, and repaid the bank. He would have done anything.
"It's true he has been arrested," Jim said after he had given the old man time to recover himself. "But I'm quite sure he will be able to prove his innocence. I know my father thinks so, too. Indeed, he himself is employing the best legal advice he can obtain, and will see he is given every chance of defending himself. We want you to come up to town, if you will, sir, and, if possible, to catch the train to-day." He glanced at the grandfather clock in a corner of the room. "There is one that leaves Newton Abbot about two-thirty, I think. I can motor you in. I am sure Mr. Despard will accompany you."