After a while he arose, crossed the channel, and led the way to a small side door, whose key was in the lock. This he turned and pushed the door open, letting in the fresh breath of morning. The relief which Brownie experienced was expressed by a long-drawn sigh, and, looking up into her companion’s face, she smiled a wan, forced smile, as she said: “I fear you will think me very cowardly, but indeed my nerves were nearly unstrung by excitement and anxiety before this last experience.” “Do not speak of it; I am sure you have borne it bravely. And now, if you will follow that path,” he added, pointing it out to her, “it will lead you directly through this grove, around to the front of the Hall, where I think you will find no difficulty now in entering.” “Thank you. And, Mr. Randal, I feel that I owe you a great deal. I trust it will not be long before we shall meet again under happier circumstances,” Brownie said, heartily, as she held out her little trembling hand to him. He took it, while an expression of infinite sadness swept over his face. “I shall always remember you, and I believe we shall meet again,” Brownie said, with quivering lips, and eyes which were swimming in tears. He bent and touched her hand with his lips, then, with a murmured farewell, he closed the door and went back to his loneliness and desolation, leaving Brownie standing alone in the gray dawn, a strange, deep tenderness in her heart for this poor sufferer, whom God had stricken so heavily. She leaned wearily against the door and looked about her. She had felt tenfold more dreary than when she had been shut within the cell, for she was still in some doubt as to what was best for her to do, and as to what her reception would be if she should return to the Hall. She was cold, and weak, and faint, and it was quite a distance around to the front of the hall, but, after a few moments spent in deliberation, she turned into the path leading through the grove. The morning was cloudy and misty, and within the shadow of the trees, most of which were spruce and pine, the gloom was most oppressive, while the keen air pierced her scant clothing, chilling her through and through. She had not gone many steps when the crackling of twigs made her start nervously and look around her, and her heart stood still with fear as she beheld the figure of a man, enveloped in a long, dark cloak, coming toward her with rapid strides. She stopped, her heart beating like a trip-hammer, and stepped behind a tree, hoping he had not observed her, and would pass on without noticing her. Vain hope! The figure quickened his steps, coming directly toward the spot where she stood. What to do she knew not. If she attempted to fly he could easily overtake her. If she remained where she was, and harm came to her, no one could hear her cries and come to her aid.