And then—­like a poisoned arrow out of the darkness—­another thought pierced him.  What if she were indeed of those who loved for a space and passed smiling on?  What if the fatal taint of the world from which she had come to him had touched her also, withering the heart in her, making true love a thing impossible?  What if she had indeed been fashioned in the same mould as the worthless woman whom she sought to defend?

But that was unthinkable, intolerable.  He flung the evil suggestion from him, but it left a burning wound behind.  There was no escape from the fact that she was on terms of intimacy with the man with whom that woman’s name had been shamefully associated.  And—­remembering the discomfiture she had betrayed at their meeting—­he told himself bitterly that she would have given much to have concealed that intimacy had it been possible.

But here his loyalty cried out that he was wronging her.  Juliet—­his Juliet of the steadfast eyes and low, sincere voice—­was surely incapable of double dealing!  Whatever her life in the past had been, however frivolous, however artificial, it had been given to him—­perhaps to him alone—­to know her as she was.  A great wave of self-reproach went over him.  How had he dared to doubt her?

The sea moaned with a dreary sound along the shore.  A few heavy drops of rain fell around him.  Mechanically he quickened his pace.  He came at length down the steep cliff-path to the gate that led to the village.  And here to his surprise a shuffling footstep told him of the presence of another human being out in the desolate darkness.  Dimly he discerned a bulky shape leaning against the rail.

He came up to it.  “Robin!” he said sharply.

A low voice answered him in startled accents.  “Oh, Dicky!  I thought you were never coming!”

“What are you doing here?” Dick said.

He took the boy by the shoulder with the words and Robin cowered away.

“Don’t be cross!  Dicky, please don’t be cross!  I only came to look for you,” he said with nervous incoherence.  “I didn’t mean to be out late.  I couldn’t help it.  Don’t be cross!”

But Dick was implacable.  “You know you’ve no business out at this hour,” he said.  “I warned you last time—­when you went to The Three Tuns—­” He paused abruptly.  “Have you been to The Three Tuns to-night?”

“No!” said Robin eagerly.

Dick’s hand pressed upon him.  “Is that the truth?”

Robin became incoherent again.  “I only came to meet you.  I didn’t think you’d be so late.  And it was so hot to-night.  And my head ached.”  He broke off.  “Dicky, you’re hurting me!”

“You have told me a lie,” Dick said.

Robin shrank at his tone.  “How did you know?” he whispered awestruck.

Dick did not answer.  He shifted his hold from Robin’s shoulder to his arm and turned him about.  Robin went with him, shuffling his feet and trembling.