Brent would not have been surprised to see her swoon at his feet, but this unnatural calmness terrified him.
"Whither art thou bound?" he asked, catching up with her.
"To the manor-house—there to say a prayer for the soul of him that's gone, then to pack my belongings and Cecil's."
"To pack?"
"Ay, and to make ready for our departure to St. Mary's. There we will make our home till we can betake ourselves to Cecil Manor. The house of the Brents can never again be shelter for me or mine."
"Elinor! Have I deserved this?"
"Thou hast been a kind kinsman to me, Giles, and for the past I thank thee; but thou art a hard man, and my heart is bitter against thee for the part thou hast played in driving an innocent man to his death."
"I drive the poltroon!" muttered Brent. "Was he not drowned in a cowardly attempt to escape from a trial he dared not face?"
"No!" flamed Elinor.
"Thou dost speak as one who knows. Perhaps thou hast information. How canst thou talk so bold?"