Paul’s face brightened at the sight of the boy; he had always liked him, and had been drawn to him before knowing of Ruth’s existence.  Still the thought of her was now foremost in his mind as he looked at David.  We are all glad to see those who are near the one whom we love; we are even eager to seek those whom we would otherwise avoid when they are near our beloved from whom we are parted.  This eagerness was in Paul Colbert’s face as he looked at the boy and asked with some hesitation if he was in haste.

“If you are not,” he said, “I should like to have a little talk with you.  Let’s sit down on that fallen tree.”

Dismounting, he led his horse along the path, with the boy following in silence.  They sat down side by side on the tree-trunk, the doctor holding his horse by the bridle.  There were new lines in his face which did not belong to youth, and which had not been graven by his fierce struggle with the Cold Plague.  The boy noticed them and knew that they had not been there when he had last seen the doctor’s face.  Its look of gloom also had come back.  That had lifted at the moment of meeting, but it was too deep to go so suddenly, and it had now returned.  He turned to the boy uncertainly, for there had been no clear purpose in his speaking to the lad.  He had spoken on an irresistible impulse to learn something of Ruth, blindly clutching at a possible bond between her and himself.  It seemed years rather than days since he had heard from her.  But in a single glance his trained eyes saw that David was in trouble, and by asking a few adroit questions he brought out all that the boy knew.  The doctor sat so still for an instant after hearing what had passed between the judge and William Pressley, that David looked up in surprise to see what was the matter.  Paul Colbert was very pale, and his eyes were glancing round, searching the deepening shadows of the forest.  He made a gesture, warning the boy to speak lower, and his own voice was scarcely above a whisper.

“What time to-day did Pressley leave Cedar House?  Had he come back when you came away?  Tell me again just what he said about telling Philip Alston.  Try to remember every word—­a valuable life may hang upon it.  Keep as cool as you can—­and be careful, don’t be alarmed, but be quick.  Every word now—­once more.”

The boy repeated everything as accurately as he could.  While he was speaking, the doctor, rising to his feet, gathered up the bridle-reins, and hastily bending down, was tightening the girth.  When the last item of information had been gathered, he vaulted into the saddle.

“There isn’t any time for our talk.  I must gallop home for a fresh horse.  This one is too tired for the speed we need.”  He saw the surprise and, the alarm in the boy’s gaze, and leaning over, took his trembling hand.  “Don’t be troubled.  You are in no way to blame, whatever happens.  You have done the very best thing possible in telling me this.