Gilbert was at home that morning.

He couldn't face school lately after everything that had happened. It seemed almost irrelevant and meaningless in comparison to the recent events and the worries that lay heavy on his mind.

Mrs Grey had helped so much at Gilbert's home lately and he felt that he had taken it for granted so he wanted to get lots of jobs finished at home to make up for it. He was so grateful for all that she did but he had failed to show it of late as he had been so caught up in Anne.

Mrs Grey came out of the house while he was chopping wood out back. She had brought him a cup of water and some buttered bread. He had been out there a long time and welcomed the refreshments. He smiled, putting the axe down and gathering the split wood before dumping it in the wheelbarrow. He took the cup and bread.

"Thank you so much, Mrs Grey." He said. "Thank you for everything you do."

"Your father was a good friend to me, especially when I lost my husband." Mrs Grey confessed, a lost look of memories flushing her eyes. "I am only repaying a debt I feel is owed to the Blythes."

"Nothing is owed. There is no debt." Gilbert insisted. "My father thought of you as one of his greatest friends. I know he'd hate to think you felt indebted."

"It is no trouble. I am blessed to care for his son." Mrs Grey said kindly.

"Well, I think you deserve the day off at least. You work so hard. I can handle things from here." Gilbert smiled. "Go on, head home."

Mrs Grey smiled and Gilbert saw how much his gratitude meant to her. She brought him in for a hug before taking her leave of the Blythe farm and making her way home to her cottage. She did a lot of good things for Gilbert, it was all he could do to do a good deed for her too.

Gilbert set to work on the pile of logs that needed chopping. He didn't hear the sand-coloured horse thundering up the main track. He was too lost in thought to notice the bad person that was approaching. He couldn't even imagine the terribly sad thing that was about to happen.

...

Joseph rode down the track, a bitter anger fuelling his actions.

His heart felt pained and full of fury and he was urging Sandy to gallop harder. He had been following Anne for days and had seen her almost drown in the Barry Lake. He thought he'd finally be free of the infuriating Cuthbert girl but no, along came that knight in shining armour Gilbert Blythe - an absolute pain to Joseph consistently. Of course if she had died she'd have nobody to frame.

Mr Bines had heard that a detective had come to Avonlea about the robbery and he'd taken out his anger on Joseph... violently. He wanted to remind Joseph why he had to be careful with robberies and what happened if he wasn't. Joseph was bruised blue and every second of pain he directed at Anne and her friends.

While following her he had also overheard her confessions to her friends. She'd told them everything about him and they had to be silenced so his plan could play out. Everything was in place. All he needed was time. He had a very effective delay in mind in case they decided to talk again.

Joseph knew it was school hours, so Diana Barry would be at the school house but Gilbert Blythe had not attended school for some time according to Joseph's watching. He felt it safe to assume that Gilbert would be at home at this time, so that was where he was heading.

It would be impossible for him to hurt Diana at the school house, but the nicely secluded Blythe farm was the perfect location for a tactical attack.

...

When Anne left the offices she was a mess.

She had not recovered from seeing Joseph again and was still reeling from the draining interview. Joseph knew about what she had said to her friends and he was going to punish her by hurting them. She felt sick with worry. Her overactive imagination was doing a gymnastic show in her mind, elaborately-dreadful possibilities whirling and cartwheeling through her head.

Diana and Gilbert - dead.

Anne felt a lump in her throat. She was shaking as she clambered onto her dark horse and rode as fast as the wind towards the school. She felt helpless. Joseph was out there and he wanted to kill her friends, he had already been riding for the entire time of her interview and he'd definitely reach them before her. On top of this, Anne's last hope of stopping him had openly accused her of lying and therefore shown he was no ally against Joseph.

How could Anne stop a psychotic criminal?

...

Gilbert was hot, his arms ached from the axe and his clothes were damp with sweat.

He swung the axe into the stump and wiped his forehead with his pale flannel sleeve, shoving his dark curls back into a wet mess on his head. He breathed heavily, listening to his heart beating fast. He enjoyed this, feeling strong and tired at the same time, extertion from productivity instead of fear and panic. He liked feeling in control of his heart, his body burning from exercise and not forcing it beyond its limits to save his friends.

Gilbert was still worried about Anne. Joseph was clearly going to try and frame her for the robbery, and Gilbert was determined to stop it. But how? He didn't know Joseph's plan. He hadn't even seen the boy in a while and if he did see him Gilbert doubted he'd be able to hold his temper long enough to discover any plans. That boy had a lot to answer for.

Gilbert had heard that a detective had come to town, he only hoped it would be one who could work with them to take down Joseph. He knew it would be difficult to find evidence against Joseph as there was none he knew of and the boy seemed to have carefully covered his tracks.

Something about the boy had rang a warning bell in Gilbert's head since day one, even before he knew about him being responsible for the robbery. Gilbert knew he had seen the boy before he came to Avonlea, it was before all of this happened... it was a faint memory, and the night it was dragged from was foggy with exhaustion and weak from starvation. He just couldn't remember it well enough. It felt like a dream.

Gilbert looked down at the bags of coal in the corner of the shed. He flashed back to the steamer, the coal ingrained in his clothes, lacing his hair and coating his body every day and night. Gilbert never told anybody how rough life on the steamer was. The work was painfully hard and the food was scarce. He couldn't remember much from some of his time on board but he was starting to recall.

He had seen Joseph there - that was where he knew him from. Joseph Bines was on the same steamer as him. He had only gotten a glimpse of the golden-haired boy through the thick steam under deck. But he'd heard a lot about him...

Rumours had flown around the ship that Joseph Bines had been a thief in the backstreets of New York but had to leave due to being tracked down for a crime. Somebody had traced him so he up and left the city. Nobody dared approach the infamous boy as he had a feared reputation as being violent and even murderous.

Gilbert had stayed away from the boy and when he'd finally reached the docks and recovered from his seasickness and exhaustion he barely remembered much from his time on the steamer. He blocked a lot of it out, including the fleeting memory of Joseph.

Gilbert's epiphany came at a time of desperation for him, as saving Anne seemed like an enormous unconquerable challenge that he had to achieve. But it also came moments too late. He had no time to tell anyone this important information, as it was at that time when Joseph came speeding up on a horse with a dangerous flare in his eyes.

Joseph skidded up to the shed, showering Gilbert in a cloud of dirt. He swung himself off of the horse and before Gilbert could turn around he was knocked backwards into the shelter. Gilbert exclaimed in shock as he tumbled against the wall. Joseph flew his fist into Gilbert's stomach and the wind was knocked from him. Joseph pushed the gasping, dazed boy onto the ground face down and wrapped his hands around the Blythe boy's throat.

Gilbert struggled, his strength almost overpowering Joseph but he was at a disadvantage from being attacked and winded. He was physically exhausted and so at that time he was no match for Joseph in the peak of his powerful anger. On any other occasion, perhaps a fair fight Joseph would have met his match in Gilbert.

But Joseph didn't play fair.

Joseph held him down, his knee digging into Gilbert's back in a deadlock as he pressed his fingers into the boys neck. Gilbert was gasping and choking, his fingers digging into the dirt as he writhed in frustration and desperation to get free.

"This is a warning. Dare to repeat any of what you know about that night and Anne will not live long enough to even be sent back to that orphanage she fears so much." Joseph growled.

Joseph watched Gilbert raptly, his eyes burning with anger. His thoughts were bitter and violent.

Nobody would dare ruin his plan. Nobody. They didn't know who they were up against. Joseph was an infamous criminal who had seen through notorious robberies and taken lives and hopes away from many back in New York. Small-town Anne and her friends didn't stand a chance. He would show her. He would see to it that nobody would speak another word.

Joseph squeezed his hands tighter around Gilbert's throat and he felt the Blythe boy's heartbeat throbbing fast and panicked against his fingertips like a frenzied dance of fear. The boy was struggling to breathe. Joseph smiled.

"Anne." Gilbert whimpered.

Gilbert heaved to push Joseph away but he was deprived of oxygen by this time and his body was shaking. Gilbert was pale and his face pained as he coughed and choked against the dirt. He fought to the last minute, before his brown eyes closed and he fell unconscious.

...

Anne reached the school just as lunch had begun.

She threw herself off of Belle and dashed into the cloakroom of the school house as the bell rang. She had not been there in so long, a rush of memories came back as she pushed open the doors. She brushed aside the nostalgia and longing and pushed through the crowds of chattering students to find her best friend. Anne's bright eyes searched the crowds desperately, her heart racing with fear.

There. Diana was packing up her desk slowly, as her friends left the room in a giggling group. Anne rushed over and siezed her dark-haired friend by the shoulders. Diana jumped and turned.

"You're alright!" Anne hugged the surprised girl tightly, relief washing through her body.

"Anne! What are you doing here?" Diana pulled away, worry creasing her brows. "Oh, how did the interview go--?"

"Oh, Diana I'm so blessed and relieved to see you." Anne gasped. "Where is Gilbert?"

Anne turned and looked at every student, searching. Every face that wasn't Gilbert's made her heart drop with dread. The Blythe boy who never missed school unless it was something very important wasn't here...

"Is Gilbert here? Please, Diana--" Anne was stammering now.

"He didn't come in today, he hasn't for a while. I thought you knew--?"

"He isn't here?!" Anne cried. "That means-- he must be-- oh, Diana I have to go!"

Diana grabbed Anne's hand before she could run away.

"What is going on? Whatever it is that's got you in this state, let me help you!"

"No - it's far too dangerous." Anne clasped Diana's face in her hands and stared in her eyes. "Diana, my darling friend you must stay with people at all times, when you go home walk in a group. You simply cannot be alone, do you understand me?"

"No, Anne please explain to me what is happening!" Diana was worried for her hysterical friend.

"I can't, I'm sorry." Anne was breathless. "I have to go. Please be safe."

She turned to go but fear made her go back and hug her best-friend tighter than she'd ever hugged before. Diana was incredulous, worried and confused, but she returned the hug.

"I love you." Anne whispered.

Then she was gone.

...

Anne knew the path to Gilbert's farm well, from the times she used to deliver his homework while his father was ill. She still regretted what she'd said the day of Mr Blythe's burial. She had been insensitive and she hated herself for the words she'd said to Gilbert and their fight had tormented her for a long time.

She galloped up the path, dreading what she'd find when she arrived. If Joseph had gotten there first... if he'd hurt Gilbert... Anne couldn't breathe thinking about it.

The farm appeared up ahead. Anne reached the house and slid off the horse, wincing at the pain in her side. She ran up the porch steps and bashed on the front door urgently.

"Gilbert!" She yelled. "Gilbert Blythe you open this door!"

Her heart was thumping painfully hard. She ran breathless to each window, peering into the dark, empty house. He wasn't there. Where could he be? He had to be here! Suddenly Anne remembered when she'd called to drop off homework and he'd been chopping wood around the back of the house.

Anne tore along the porch and sped around the corner, running to the shelter. There was a heap of firewood, a stump with an axe wedged in it and - Gilbert. He was sprawled unconscious on the ground. Anne threw herself onto the floor beside him, pulling his body over. His body was heavy and she panted as she rolled him onto his back. Gilbert's head rolled to the side, his long eyelashes dusting the tops of his cheeks and his damp brown curls falling into his face. Her pale hands were trembling as they shook his shoulders.

"G-Gilbert!" Anne whimpered. Was he dead?

Anne leant down and pressed her ear to his chest. She listened hard, before eventually hearing a heartbeat. She was desperately relieved but the question still hung in the air - why was he unconscious? What had happened to him? She bent to his lips and listened to his breathing, slow and ragged.

That was when Anne saw the bruises clouding up Gilbert's neck. They were yellow and purple, large flowers of tender skin pressed deep in the imprints of... fingers. Five on each side. Somebody had strangled him until he passed out. These were the actions of Joseph, she knew it.

All because she'd dared to confess what she'd been through, what he'd done... This was all because of her.