The young man sat down again on the broken chair, and drew the slight form of his beloved to his knee.
"Dear," he said gravely, "I have thought over matters in my solitude, and I see how wrong I have been in not facing the worst. This flight of mine almost admits guilt. If I am innocent, people ask themselves, why should I fly?"
"Because appearances were against you," burst out Elspeth. "Because you were in the hands of Inspector Trent, who would not give you a fair trial. Innocent men have been hanged before, for crimes which they did not commit, and if you give yourself up to these policemen who are misled by false evidence, you may be hanged."
"No, dear, I will not be hanged. The God who has given me a pure woman's love in my hour of deep distress will not forsake me in my need. Your love, given unasked, marks the turn of my fortunes; so low as I have sunk, even so high will I rise, and you with me. And come what may, your heart can never prove false to me."
"Never! Never."
"My," said Mrs. Kind with a sigh, "don't he talk lovely. Sweetlips never pattered in this way to me. It's as good as a play, and play it is," she added, raising herself anxiously, "don't forget that you have to save your life, before you can marry."
"We can be married quietly," said Elspeth.
"It ain't so easy to get tied up," retorted Mrs. Kind, wisely. "That doctor now,--his name's in all the papers by this time, and if he wanted a licence, or went to put up the banns, he'd be nabbed as soon as looked at."
"Oh, Angus." Elspeth's eyes filled with tears.
He drew her tighter to his breast.