“‘Too much, too much, Darthea,’ I said.
“‘Then come in. I must hear all—all.’ And she knocked impatiently.
“Presently we were in the parlour. ‘Fetch a light,’ she said to the black who opened for us. When we were alone and seated, she said quietly: ‘Jack, you are my only friend. I do trust you—oh, entirely. Now what is it? I must know all. Why has Hugh Wynne been silent? It is not like him.’
“‘I have already told you why. Partly because, Darthea, you were away, or would not see us. That you know. Partly because Hugh had only his own word to give; but this I have told you.’
“‘Yes, yes,’ she cried; ‘but what else?’
“‘I think,’ said I, ‘knowing him well, that Hugh meant, when once he had Delaney’s evidence, to tell his cousin face to face, and so force him to release you.’
“‘That is my business, not his,’ she broke in. ‘What has Hugh Wynne to do with it! Am I a child?’
“‘It had been the kinder and the manlier way,’ said I. ‘Now there is no need; but Hugh will be furious with his aunt.’
“‘I am glad of that. What else is there? You are hiding something.’
“‘There was that scene in the garden, Darthea.’