“Yes; they found you—”
“Hush, I tell you. I have no time to explain. Let them go on thinking me dead.”
“But, Harry!” she cried; “my poor broken-hearted father—Madelaine.”
“Hold your tongue!” he said in a broken voice, “unless you want to drive me mad.”
He paused, for his face was working; but at last with a stamp he controlled his emotion.
“Look here,” he said hoarsely. “I had no one to come to but you. Will you help me?”
“Harry!” she whispered reproachfully, as she clung to him more firmly.
“Hah! that’s better,” he said. “Now don’t talk, only listen. But are you sure that we shall not be overheard?”
“Quite, dear; we are alone.”
“Then listen. I have thought all this out. I’ve been a blackguard; I did knock old Van Heldre down.”