Pallinson a few days before, and that matron, having shown her cards a little too plainly, had been routed by an unwonted display of spirit on the part of the pretty little widow.  She was gone, carrying all her belongings with her, and leaving peace and liberty behind her.  The flush of triumph was still upon Mrs. Branston; and this unexpected victory, brief and sudden in its occurrence, like most great victories, was almost a consolation to her for that disappointment which had stricken her so heavily of late.

Adela Branston welcomed her visitor very graciously; but Gilbert had no time to waste upon small talk, and after a hasty apology for his untimely intrusion, dashed at once into the question he had come to ask.

“John Saltram was with you yesterday evening, Mrs. Branston,” he said.  “Pray tell me the purpose that brought him here, and anything you know of his plan of action after leaving you.”

“I can tell you very little about that.  He was going upon a journey he told me, that evening, immediately indeed; a most important journey; but he did not tell me where he was going.”

“I think I can guess that,” said Gilbert.  “Did he seem much agitated?”

“No; he was quite calm; but he had a resolute air, like a man who has some great purpose to achieve.  I thought him looking very white and weak, and told him that I was sure he was too ill to start upon a long journey, or any journey.  I begged him not to go, if it were possible to avoid going, and used every argument I could think of to persuade him to abandon the idea of such a thing.  But it was all no use.  ’If I had only a dozen hours to live, I must go,’ he said.”

“He came to ask you for money for his journey, did he not?”

“He did.  I suppose to so close a friend as you are to him, there can be no breach of confidence in my admitting that.  He came to borrow any ready-money I might happen to have in the house.  Fortunately, I had a hundred and twenty pounds by me in hard cash.”

“And he took that?—­he wanted as much as that?” asked Gilbert eagerly.

“Yes, he said he was likely to require as much as that.”

“Then he must have thought of going to America.”

“To America! travel to America in his weak state of health?” cried Mrs. Branston, aghast.

“Yes.  It seems like madness, does it not?  But there are circumstances under which a man may be excused for being almost mad.  John Saltram has gone in pursuit of some one very dear to him, some one who has been separated from him by treachery.”

“A woman?”

Adela Branston’s fair face flushed crimson as she asked the question.  A woman?  Yes, no doubt he was in pursuit of that woman whom he loved better than her.

“I cannot stop to answer a single question now, my dear Mrs. Branston,” Gilbert said gently.  “You shall know all by-and-by, and I am sure your generous heart will forgive any wrong that has been done you in this business.  Good night.  I have to catch a train at a quarter to eleven; I am going to Liverpool.”