"I must go, Richard," said Barbara, hastily; "I dare not stay another
minute. Be here again to-morrow night, and meanwhile I will see what can
be done."

She was speeding away, but Richard held her back. "You did not seem to
believe my assertion of innocence. Barbara, we are here alone in the
still night, with God above us; as truly as that you and I must sometime
meet Him face to face, I told you the truth. It was Thorn murdered
Hallijohn, and I had nothing whatever to do with it."

Barbara broke out of the trees and flew along, but Mr. Hare was already
in, locking and barring the door. "Let me in, papa," she called out.

The justice opened the door again, and thrusting forth his flaxen wig,
his aquiline nose, and his amazed eyes, gazed at Barbara.

"Halloo! What brings you out at this time of night, young lady?"

"I went down to the gate to look for you," she panted, "and
had--had--strolled over to the side path. Did you not see me?"

Barbara was truthful by nature and habit; but in such a cause, how could
she avoid dissimulation?

"Thank you, papa," she said, as she went in.

"You ought to have been in bed an hour ago," angrily responded Mr.
Justice Hare.