Coulson had no word for him, but he looked reproachfully at his partner for his long, unexplained absence.  Hester was putting away the ribbons and handkerchiefs, and bright-coloured things which had been used to deck the window; for no more customers were likely to come this night through the blustering weather to a shop dimly lighted by two tallow candles and an inefficient oil-lamp.  Philip came up to her, and stood looking at her with unseeing eyes; but the strange consciousness of his fixed stare made her uncomfortable, and called the faint flush to her pale cheeks, and at length compelled her, as it were, to speak, and break the spell of the silence.  So, curiously enough, all three spoke at once.  Hester asked (without looking at Philip)—­

‘Yo’re sadly wet, I’m feared?’

Coulson said—­

‘Thou might have a bit o’ news to tell one after being on the gad all afternoon.’

Philip whispered to Hester—­

‘Wilt come into t’ parlour?  I want a word wi’ thee by oursel’s.’

Hester quietly finished rolling up the ribbon she had in her hands when he spoke, and then followed him into the room behind the shop before spoken of.

Philip set down on the table the candle which he had brought out of the shop, and turning round to Hester, took her trembling hand into both of his, and gripping it nervously, said—­

‘Oh!  Hester, thou must help me—­thou will, will not thou?’

Hester gulped down something that seemed to rise in her throat and choke her, before she answered.

‘Anything, thou knows, Philip.’

’Yes, yes, I know.  Thou sees the matter is this:  Daniel Robson—­he who married my aunt—­is taken up for yon riot on Saturday night at t’ Mariners’ Arms——­’

‘They spoke on it this afternoon; they said the warrant was out,’ said Hester, filling up the sentence as Philip hesitated, lost for an instant in his own thoughts.

‘Ay! the warrant is out, and he’s in t’ lock-up, and will be carried to York Castle to-morrow morn; and I’m afeared it will go bad with him; and they at Haytersbank is not prepared, and they must see him again before he goes.  Now, Hester, will thou go in a tax-cart as will be here in less than ten minutes from t’ George, and bring them back here, and they must stay all night for to be ready to see him to-morrow before he goes?  It’s dree weather for them, but they’ll not mind that.’

He had used words as if he was making a request to Hester; but he did not seem to await her answer, so sure was he that she would go.  She noticed this, and noticed also that the rain was spoken of in reference to them, not to her.  A cold shadow passed over her heart, though it was nothing more than she already knew—­that Sylvia was the one centre of his thoughts and his love.

‘I’ll go put on my things at once,’ said she, gently.

Philip pressed her hand tenderly, a glow of gratitude overspread him.