"Let me help you," he said, and gently but firmly he laid his hand upon her arm covered by the shawl.
And, as he did so, the light gleamed still more brightly in his face, for he discovered that the shawl with which she had been wiping away her tears—was dry!
[CHAPTER XIX.]
Mr. Austin Ambrose walked back to Lee with a step that had regained its usual elasticity, and with hope again beaming in his eyes.
Few men would have been sharp enough to notice, in the midst of such excitement, so trivial a fact that Mrs. Day's shawl was dry; but Mr. Austin Ambrose was not an ordinary man, and in an instant his acute brain was hard at work.
If Mrs. Day had been out in the boat all night, as she would have them believe, then her shawl would have been still wet; but as it was dry, then Mrs. Day must have been somewhere to dry it, and Austin Ambrose felt, with that kind of conviction which is more a matter of faith than reason, that Margaret had been with her.
He felt as certain as that he was walking along the road that the Days had rescued Margaret from the rock, and had taken her to some place of safety, and that for some reason, best known to themselves, the Days had agreed to conceal the fact, and lead the public to believe that Margaret had perished.
"That woman wasn't crying," he muttered to himself as he walked along; "her eyes were as dry as the shawl! No; Margaret is in hiding somewhere, and those Days know where. Now, if Blair will only kindly pull round, I am all right."
When in the Holme, he learned that "Mr. Stanley" was still unconscious, and that there had been no change in his condition.