“Ah! then this is the beginning of good things for me, and I will accept it as a precious omen,” he replied, clasping her hand warmly, and his eyes lighted with a deep, and sudden joy. “I do not mean to complain,” he added, a moment after, “for I have many things to be thankful for, and I thank my Maker every day that He gave me this ugly body rather than a blunted intellect. I have my books, and moderately good health, though that would be better, I think, if I could be more in the air. But I try to feel that all my privations are sent to teach me some great lesson in life, and fit me for better things.” Brownie sat in deep and perplexed thought for several minutes. There were evidently only two things which she could do; either leave the Hall altogether and hide, as Mrs. Coolidge had proposed, letting her disappearance still remain a mystery, or boldly face them all, and let the guilty suffer for their own wrong-doing. Herbert Randal read something of Brownie’s thoughts in her troubled face. “I do not see that there is but one course for you to pursue, Miss Douglas,” he said, “and that is to explain everything in a straightforward way. Perhaps if you could conceal the fact from all but the immediate family that it was Lady Randal’s son who released you, it might save some scandal.” “Do you not think it right and just that that fact be made known?” Brownie asked, gravely, adding: “I shall never rest content until I know you are at liberty to go and come at your own will and pleasure, and have your rights.” “You are very kind. I shall leave it all to your own judgment. If it is necessary, of course the secret will have to come out. You can judge how much of an explanation may be necessary as soon as you reach the Hall.” He took the candle, and sweeping aside a portion of the tapestry hangings, revealed an iron door. He asked her to draw back the bolt and push the door open. She did so, and saw a flight of stone steps. He limped down these, she following, and soon came to what appeared a grated window. He told her to slide back the grating, when she would see another bolt which fastened the window. She obeyed, and slipping the bolt, the window swung open on hinges, when, descending two or three more steps, they found themselves in what he had called a court, but what was in reality a small, ancient burying ground, surrounded on three sides by the walls of the Hall, and on the fourth by that of the old chapel. CHAPTER XXXIII BROWNIE LIBERATED “You would not suppose that Vallingham Hall concealed such a spot in its very heart, would you?” Herbert Randal asked, as they stepped into the court. “No; it is an enigma to me even now.”