‘Yes,’ said Barbara quickly. ‘By the Abbot’s Well there runs a path down between laurels, then over a stile into the wood. It is still possible—will you go?’
‘You do not trust me?’
‘I wish to—but——’
‘Will you do one thing more for me?’
She looked timidly at him.
‘Peal the alarm-bell.’
[CHAPTER XXXVI.]
CONFESSIONS.