Fielding waited till at last, without turning, he spoke.  “I’ve always known it might come to this, but I never realized why.  I suppose anyone but a blind fool would have seen through it long ago.”

“What are you talking about?” said the squire.  “I’m utterly in the dark, remember.”

Dick’s hands were clenched.  “I’m talking of Juliet and—­Saltash.  I’ve always known there was some sort of understanding between them.  He flaunted it in my face whenever we met.  But I trusted her—­I trusted her.”  The words were like a muffled cry rising from the depths of the man’s wrung soul.

“Sit down!” said the squire gruffly, and taking him by the shoulders pushed him into the chair from which he himself had so lately risen.

Dick yielded, with the submission of utter despair, his black head bowed against the table.

Fielding stooped over him, still holding him.  “Now, boy, now!  Don’t let yourself go!  Tell me—­try and tell me!”

Dick drew a hard breath.  “You’ll think I’m mad, sir.  I thought I was myself at first.  But it’s true—­it must be true.  I heard it from her own lips.  Juliet—­my wife—­my wife—­is—­was—­Lady Joanna Farringmore!”

“Great heavens!” said the squire.  “Dick, are you sure?”

“Yes, quite sure.  She was caught—­caught by Yardley at the meeting to-night.  She couldn’t escape—­so she told the truth—­told the whole crowd—­and then bolted—­bolted with Saltash.”

“Great heavens!” said the squire again.  “But—­what was Saltash doing there?”

“Oh, he came to protect her.  He knew—­or guessed—­there was something in the wind.  He came to support her.  I know now.  He’s the subtlest devil that ever was made.”

“But why on earth—­why on earth did she ever come here?” questioned Fielding.

“She was hiding from Yardley of course.  He’s a cold vindictive brute, and I suppose—­I suppose she was afraid of him, and came to me—­came to me—­for refuge.”  Dick was speaking through his hands.  “That’s how he regards it himself.  She was always playing fast and loose till she got engaged to him.  It was just the fashion in that set.  But he—­I imagine no one ever played with him before.  He swears—­swears he’ll make her suffer for it yet.”

“Pooh!” said Fielding.  “How does he propose to do that?  She’s your wife anyhow.”

“My wife—­yes.”  Slowly Dick raised his head, stared for a space in front of him, then grimly rose.  “My wife—­as you say, sir.  And I am going to find her—­now.”

“I’m coming with you,” said Fielding.

“No, sir, no!” Dick looked at him with a tight-lipped smile that was somehow terrible.  “Don’t do that!  You won’t want to be—­a witness against me.”

“Pooh!” said the squire again.  “I may be of use to you before it comes to that.  But before we start let me tell you one thing, Dick!  She married you because she loved you—­for no other reason.”