But North shook his head.

“Oh, yes, John, it must be Judge Belknap!” cried Elizabeth.  “Watt says it must be, and father agrees with him!”

“But I haven’t the money, dear.  His retainer would probably swallow up all I have left.”

“Leave Belknap to me, North!” interposed the general.

North’s face reddened.

“You are very kind, and I—­I appreciate it all,—­but don’t you see I can’t do that?” he faltered.

“Don’t be foolish, John.  You must reconsider this determination; as a matter of fact I have taken the liberty of communicating with Belknap by wire; he will reach Mount Hope in the morning.  We are vitally concerned, North, and you must accept help—­money—­whatever is necessary!”

The expression on North’s face softened, and tears stood in his eyes.

“I knew you would prove reasonable,” continued the general, and he glanced at Elizabeth.

She was everything to him.  He could have wished that North was almost any one else than North; and in spite of himself this feeling gave its color to their interview, something of his wonted frankness was lacking.  It was his unconscious protest.

“Very well, then, I will see Judge Belknap, and some day—­when I can—­” said North, still struggling with his emotion and his pride.

“Oh, don’t speak of that!” exclaimed General Herbert hastily.

“This miserable business could not have happened at a worse time for me!” said the young fellow with bitterness.

“Don’t say that, John!” pleaded Elizabeth.  “For your friends—­”

“You and your father, you mean!” interrupted North.

“It is hard enough to think of you here alone, without—­” Her voice faltered, and this time her eyes filled with tears.

“I’ll not object again, Elizabeth; that you should suffer is much the worst part of the whole affair!”

Brockett had entered the room and General Herbert had drawn him aside.

“I am coming every day, John!” said Elizabeth.

“Will your father agree to that?” asked North.

“Yes, can’t you see how good and kind he is!”

“Indeed I can, it is far beyond what I should be in his place, I’m afraid.”

“It has been so horrible,—­such nights of agony—­” she whispered.

“I know, dear,—­I know!” he said tenderly.

“They are not looking for other clues and yet the man who killed poor old man McBride may be somewhere in Mount Hope at this very minute!”

“Until I am proved innocent, I suppose they see nothing to do,” said North.

“But, John, you are not afraid of the outcome?” And she rested a hand on his arm.

“No, I don’t suppose I really am,—­I shall be able to clear myself, of course; the law doesn’t often punish innocent men, and I am innocent.”

He spoke with quiet confidence, and her face became radiant with the hope that was in his words.