"They will hold their tongues. I'll see to that."
"Bless you," murmured the half stupefied man. "I can't thank you for—Oh! if you only knew all! I want to tell you something."
"Never mind just now," said the old lady, sharply. "Try and get up the stairs supported by Alice and myself. Then we'll put you to bed and give you something to eat."
"Will I be safe?" asked the man, looking round anxiously.
"Quite safe. Do you think I would let you be taken, Bernard?" said Alice, although her soul sickened in her at the deception.
"I—trust—you," said Michael, with a strange look at her. "I am ill and dirty, and—and—but you know I am Bernard," he burst out in a pitiful kind of way.
"Yes, of course you are. Anyone can see that," said Miss Berengaria, as Alice didn't answer. "Help him up, Alice."
The two dragged the man up the stairs painfully, he striving his best to make his weight light. Miss Berengaria approved of this. "He's got good stuff in him," she said, when they led him into the small room, which took up the whole of the second floor of the turret.
"He always had," said Alice, warmly, and for the sake of the comedy.
But Miss Berengaria frowned. She applied what she said to Michael.