Her voice is quiet, almost matter-of-fact, and yet Maggie Fortescue is alone in the world, hungry, tired, weary, and penniless.
“No, Maggie,” he says gently, “certainly not. I am going away now, but I will send some one to help you. And when you have buried your poor brother, you must come to this address and let me know. I have several things to ask you, and you must let me help you to earn a comfortable living.”
“God bless your Grace!” she answers in a low voice. Then, as Evie Ravensdale turns to go, she holds out some silver to him, saying as she does so:
“It’s the change, your Grace, out of what you gave me to get those things for Eric.”
“Keep it, keep it, Maggie,” he says huskily; and then he turns and leaves the poor scantily furnished room in which he has learned so much, and in which he has established, absolutely and completely, the innocence of the woman whose lost image is ever before his eyes.
CHAPTER VI.
And while Eric Fortescue unburdens his soul of the heavy sin that has stained it, and bears it, purified and triumphant, through the portals of a new life, there is confusion and rage in the heart of Mr. Trackem as he sits at his business table hastily examining papers and committing them to the safe keeping of a large fire, which consumes each consignment as it is thrown in.
Mr. Trackem’s usually confident and satisfied expression, has given place to one of anxiety and fear. That he is disturbed is evident.
“Curse the fellow!” he keeps muttering to himself; and then a gleam of baffled rage shoots from his cunning eyes.