For answer, Scrivener once again put his arm round her waist, drew her close to him, put his hand under her chin, and looked fixedly into her eyes. Then he whispered a short sentence into her ear. Whatever he told her had a queer effect. She turned first a vivid red, and then white to her lips; her slender figure swayed as if she would faint, and were the man not supporting her, she must have fallen. “There’s a brave lass,” he said; “you have taken it as I knew you would. You must make the best of things now, my beauty. I go back to town to-morrow, or perhaps to-night, and I’ll see what the registrar requires. It is my belief, as I have been so long in the place, that we can be married at very short notice. Now, you leave your present situation in a week or ten days at the farthest. Why, look here, I am no end of a swell in town. You’ll be surprised when I take you to your home. In my own way I am as good as Silver—yes, that I am. I believe his dame was a good bit taken aback when she came here; so you’ll be when I take you to my humble dwelling, pretty Hetty. Now let me hear from those beautiful rosebud lips that you’ll soon be mine.” “I’ll soon be yours, Jim,” answered the girl, “though I am in no end of a funk.” The man laughed. He pressed Hetty close to him, and began to kiss her on her lips and forehead. She submitted to his caresses, shutting her eyes and trying to keep back the agony which was really filling her heart. “That’s all right,” said Scrivener. “You give notice to quit to-morrow, do you hear?” “Yes, Jim.” “You had best not give too short notice, or it might rouse suspicion. Say you are engaged to be married to a respectable man in a way of business. You might call me Dawson if you like; it don’t much matter; the less you bring in names, the better, only if you are driven to it, say the man’s name is Sam Dawson. Then at the end of the fortnight you go up to town, and I’ll meet you at King’s Cross and take you right away to my own house. I think that’s all now. You had best slip back, or you may be suspected.” “Very well, Jim, I’ll do what you say, for I cannot help myself. I suppose you are going to town?” “You had best not know where I am going. Leave me to manage my own affairs. If you don’t know, you can’t tell. There, good-bye.” CHAPTER XXX. MRS. LARKINS.