"If I can save Allen in no other way, I must," said Dora firmly. "Consider his position, Mrs. Tice, should Joad accuse him of the crime! He quarrelled with Edermont, he came here at the very hour of the murder, and when he left the house Edermont was dead. To all this circumstantial evidence he can oppose only his bare word. I tell you he is in danger of being hanged, Mrs. Tice. Nothing is left for me to do save to marry Joad. He dare not speak then."
"The real assassin may be found yet," suggested Mrs. Tice hopefully.
"There is little chance of that, I am afraid. When all these hundreds of men, stimulated by that gigantic reward, have failed to track the murderer, how can I hope to succeed? No, Mrs. Tice; the name of the criminal will never be known, so it only remains for me to see Allen for the last time, and return here to be Joad's wife."
The housekeeper sighed. This indeed appeared the sole way out of the difficulty, and she could offer no advice on the subject. It went to her heart that Dora should marry so disreputable a creature; but as the reason for such marriage was the safety of Allen Scott, she was content that it should take place. In her love for Allen, the old nurse would have sacrificed a hundred women. Dora's fate was hard; she admitted that, but it was necessary.
Allen proved less ill than they expected to find him. He was annoyed that Mrs. Tice had been sent for, although he was glad to see both her and Dora. Nevertheless, he protested against being considered a sick man, or that he should take to his bed.
"I'm not well enough to go about my work," he said candidly; "at the same time, I am not sufficiently ill to retire to a sick-room. I shall be all right in a day or two."
He did not look as though he would recover in so short a time. In default of bed, he was lying on a sofa in the dining-room, covered with a rug, and he appeared to be thoroughly ill. His eyes were bright, his hands were burning, and every now and again he shivered with cold, as though suffering from an attack of ague. Mrs. Tice made him some beef-tea, and insisted upon his taking it, which he did after much persuasion.
"You see, Dora," he said, with a smile, "the doctor has to be prescribed for by his old nurse. All my science and knowledge goes for nothing in comparison with Mrs. Tice's remedies."
"I know what is common-sense," said Mrs. Tice, smiling also. "Lie still, Mr. Allen, and keep warm. Miss Carew will sit with you here while I look after the house. I dare say it has been dreadfully neglected in my absence."
"That is hardly a compliment to my management," said Allen, trying to smile.