"You'll not go yet," she said. "You've a secret you're keeping from me.
It's my concern as well as yours. We'll talk of it together, David."

"I'll talk of it with no living soul," he answered thickly. "Out of my
way."

But Joan neither moved nor quailed.

"They will have it that Douglas Guest was killed," she said. "I have
never believed it. I do not believe it now. He is keeping out of the
way because of what he did that night."

"Ay," he muttered. "Likely enough."

"We must find him," she continued. "Day by day we have searched. You
shall help. If he be not guilty he knows the truth, and he hides. So I
say that if he lives we must find him."

"Guilty enough," he muttered. "He is in her toils. Let me pass, sister
Joan."

"You have seen him?" she cried. "You know that he is alive?"

"Ay, alive," he answered. "He's alive."

"You have seen him?"

"Yes."

"Tell me where and when." "By chance," he said hesitating--"in the