"Anything?"
"Anything."
She hesitated, looking at him.
"Do you give me your word?"
"I do."
"But—but it is an enormous thing you are doing for me."
"I know it is."
"Oh, let me go—let me go myself!" she cried suddenly, with a half sob; "it is so much better."
"I will never let you go," said Stephen. His voice was inflexible. She surveyed him tremulously, hopelessly; then sank down upon her knees, praying, but not to him. Stephen took off his hat, and waited, bareheaded. It was but a moment; then she rose. "My cousin, Richard Eliot, my uncle's eldest son, has been with these men, at one of their hiding-places, for some months. My uncle knows nothing of it; but Brother Bethuel is in the secret, and keeps watch of him."
"Your cousin is Masters, then?"