Deane followed her outstretched finger. Riding along the top of one of the dykes, as though unconscious of the sea flowing on either side, came a boy on a bicycle. The bicycle was painted red, and the boy had on a cap whose high peak gave it a semi-official look.
"He is coming here," said Deane. "It may be my letters. Or I think--"
He stopped short. He knew very well that it was a telegram the boy was bringing, but he almost feared to say anything which would bring hope into her face.
"It isn't--it couldn't be a telegram?" she asked, a little wistfully.
"It might be," he admitted. "I get a good many, of course."
He told the lie unblushingly. All the time he watched, with an anxiety which seemed incredible, for the coming of the messenger.
"You must remember," he said, "that even if this should be a telegram, I really do not expect any news yet."
She said nothing. She stood with parted lips by his side, and they watched the boy drive his bicycle along the sea-stained bank. Once he skidded, and she gave a little scream. Deane laughed at her, surprised to discover something unnatural in the sound.
"Well," he said, "we will meet the boy here. I am afraid you will find a few stock exchange quotations inside the envelope, even if he should be--"
"It is a telegraph boy," she interrupted. "I can see the wallet."
She clung to his arm. Deane found himself patting her fragile hand with his strong fingers. He drew her arm through his, and led her a few steps further forward. The boy jumped off his bicycle and opened his wallet, as he approached, with a familiar movement. Deane took the telegram into his fingers and tore it open. His arm suddenly went round her waist.
"Miss Rowan," he said, "be brave and I will tell you some good news. See, you can read it for yourself. The reprieve is signed."
She suddenly fell a dead weight upon his arm, and almost as quickly she recovered herself. Her closed eyes were opened, she clung to him passionately. "It is true?" she cried out.
He held the telegram in front of her face. "Read," he said. "'_Reprieve signed last night. Will be communicated to Rowan this morning. Hardaway._'--That is the name of my solicitor, so there is no possible doubt about it. The matter is ended."