They turned up the narrow street, and there in the distance to the right was the stall and the shop, and a figure on the steps. Mr. Ancrum had sent a card before them, and John was on the watch.
The instant the cab stopped, and before the driver could dismount, John had opened the door. Putting his head in he peered at the pair inside, and at the opposite seat, with his small short-sighted eyes.
'Where is she?' he said hoarsely, barring the way.
Mr. Ancrum looked at his companion. David had shrunk back into the corner, with a white hangdog look, and said nothing. The minister interposed.
'David will tell you all,' he said gently. 'First help me in with him, and the bags. He is a sick man.'
With a huge effort John controlled himself, and they got inside. Then he shut the shop door and put his back against it.
'Tell me where she is,' he repeated shortly.
'She is married,' David said in a low voice, but looking up from the chair on which he had sunk.' By now—she is married. I heard by telegram last night that all was arranged for to-day.'
The lad opposite made a sharp, inarticulate sound which startled the minister's ear. Then clutching the handle of the door, he resumed sharply—
'Who has she married?'