"Forgive me—oh, forgive me!" "Forgive you—bless you!" she gasped. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. “It is so difficult,” she murmured, “so impossible to explain. I cannot be intimate—’ stressing the word with a deep look ‘— with one I feel to be a stranger. After him! A hundred pounds to the man who takes him. ‘What started you off, you madman,’ Roding told him frankly, as he set about tying his handkerchief around the wound, ‘was being born at all. ‘Must be another of her lies. He was so seldom wrong. .
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