But, quick as he was, Chris was quicker still. Having long since lost all fear of Mr. Richard, and being anxious only to save him from the pains and penalties he might draw down upon himself if Mr. Bradfield should find out that he was at liberty, she sprang after the unhappy man, and almost threw herself upon him. She was afraid to speak, lest Mr. Bradfield, who had turned sharply at the wild cries uttered by the young man, should recognise her voice and come to meet her. But she pleaded by the touch of her hands, by the expression of her upturned face, which he could see dimly in the darkness. And she conquered. Under the touch of her hands his own clenched fists fell to his sides, while his eyes regained their tenderness as he looked at her. His feet faltered, and stopped. Not until then did Chris grow afraid; not until she found that she was resting on the arms of a young and handsome man, whose face was alight with passion indeed, but with passion which was neither hatred nor fear. CHAPTER XVII. A STRANGE MANIA. Chris Abercarne had had sweethearts at every period of her young life--little boys of eight and nine had presented her, when she was of a similar age, with bull’s-eyes, half-apples, pieces of sealing-wax, and odds and ends of string and slate-pencil; in fact, with the best and most treasured of their worldly goods. Later than this, boys of a larger growth had written her notes on pink paper, couched in tender terms, and doubtful orthography; while, later still, offerings of flowers and sweets, of sighs and pretty speeches, had been laid freely at her feet. While complacently sensible that these contributions were not to be despised, Chris had become so used to tributes of admiration of all sorts as to be hard to impress, and to have earned the reputation of coldness. When, therefore, as she held the arms of Mr. Richard to prevent his making an attack on his guardian, she was conscious of a sensation that was not cold, the experience was so new and strange that it frightened her. Her success had been immediate and remarkable. He had at once desisted from his intention of making an onslaught upon Mr. Bradfield, and had stood quite still and submissive under the gentle touch of her hands. Chris glanced up in his face, which was bent towards hers. She withdrew her eyes at once, glad that it was too dark for him to see the blush which she could feel rising hot in her cheeks; and as her eyelids fell, after one glance at Mr. Richard’s impassioned face, she knew, with a woman’s quick, intuitive knowledge which could give no very good reason for itself, that the reputed maniac was sane. But this thought she found quite as alarming as, and even more exciting than, her previous belief that Mr. Richard was mad. For to struggle with a madman is one thing, and to find oneself in the arms of a lover is another; and this latter was undoubtedly the situation in which her own action had placed her.