He had spent a horrible quarter of an hour, between his desire to see Del Ferice punished and the promise he had given his wife to save him.

He felt so little sure of himself that he never once looked back, lest he should be tempted to send a second man to stop the fugitive and deliver him up to justice.

He ground his teeth together, and his heart was full of bitter curses as he rode up the hill, hardly daring to reflect upon what he had done.

That, in the eyes of the law, he had wittingly helped a traitor to escape, troubled his conscience little.

His instinct bade him destroy Del Ferice by giving him up, and he would have saved himself a vast deal of trouble if he had followed his impulse.