“And you rescued him?” she said, eagerly.
“You could scarcely call it that. He resisted grandly, and was brave enough to effect his own rescue. I guided him away from that unsafe locality, and warned him of the danger which menaced him.”
“And is that danger now past?”
“Is it past!” He took from his pocket a folded placard, opened it, and put it into her hands.
It was the handbill containing the description of the escaped Sailor, and offering a reward for his capture.
With a cry of remorse and terror, Leslie Warburton flung it from her, and rose to her feet.
“My God!” she cried, wringing her hands wildly, “my cowardice, my folly, has brought this upon him, upon us all!”
Then turning toward the detective, a sudden resolve replacing the terror in her eye, a resolute ring in her voice, she said:
“Listen; you have proved yourself worthy of all confidence; you shall hear all I have to tell; you shall judge between my enemies and me.”
“But, madam—”