At length she left the room, to go out of the house by the back-door and call at the neighbours'. Scarcely was she away, when Emily darted upstairs, and in an instant was down again, with her hat and a cloak; another moment, and she was out in the road. She did not forget the terror her mother would suffer, on finding her gone; but endurance had reached its limit. It was growing dark. After one look in the direction of Dunfield, she took the opposite way, and ran towards the Heath, ran till her breath failed and she had to drop into a quick walk. Once more she was going to the Upper Heath, and to the house which was the source of all her misery. When she reached the quarry it was quite dark at her approach she saw the shape of a man move away into the shadow of the quarried rock, and an unreasoning fear spurred her past the spot. Five minutes more and she was at Dagworthy's gate. She rang the door-bell. The servant told her that Mr. Dagworthy was at home; she declined to give her name, but said she must see him at once. Speedily she was led into a room, where her enemy sat alone. He looked at her wonderingly, then with a deep flush--for now he surely had gained his end,--he advanced towards her without speaking. 'Where is my father?' she asked; the voice which disabused him did not seem Emily's. 'Isn't he at home?' 'He has not come home. What have you done?' 'Not come home?' 'Then he is free? He is safe--my father? You have spared him?' Dagworthy inwardly cursed himself for shortsightedness. Were he but able to answer 'Yes,' would she not yield him anything? Why had he not made trial of this policy? Or was it now too late? But Hoed had not returned home. The man had gone forth from him in despair. As he gazed at the girl, a suspicion, all but a fear, touched him. Why should Hood remain away from his house? She was repeating her questions imploringly. 'He is free, as far as I am concerned, Emily.' 'You have forgiven him? Oh, you have had that mercy upon us?' 'Sit down, and let us talk about it,' said Dagworthy. She did not seem to notice that he had taken her hand; but the next moment he was holding her in his arm, and with a cry she broke away. 'There are others in the house,' she exclaimed, her wild, fearful eyes seeking other exit than that which he stopped. 'I must call for their help. Can you not see that I am suffering--ill? Are you pitiless? But no--no--for you have spared him!' Dagworthy mastered himself, though it cost him something, and spoke with an effort at gentleness. 'What thanks have you to give me, Emily?' 'My life's gratitude--but that will be your least reward.' 'Ay, but how is the gratitude going to be shown?' Her keen sense found a fear in his manner of speaking. 'You have not said a word to him,' she asked, seeming to forget his question. Of what ultimate use was it to lie? And she would not suffer him within reach of her.