Mr. Cornthwaite turned away impatiently, and again there was a pause. At last he said in the same sharp tone—
“You brought her back home, I suppose?”
“Yes. At least I followed her, and when she grew too tired to walk alone I caught her up, and helped her along.”
Mr. Cornthwaite looked at him curiously. The little room was ill-lighted, by two candles only and the red glow of the fire. He could see Bram’s face pretty well, but the young man could not see his.
“Still infatuated, I see?” said Josiah in a hard, ironical voice.
Bram made no answer.
“You intend to marry her, I suppose?” went on Mr. Cornthwaite in a harder tone than ever.
Bram stared. But he could see nothing of Mr. Cornthwaite’s features, only the black outline of his figure against the dim candle-light.
“No, sir,” said he steadily. “I only hope to be able to save her life.”