"Staying to watch for fear I should escape," thought Kate, and a nervous shiver ran through her; but rest seemed to have given her mental strength, and after breakfast she felt disposed to ridicule the idea of her being kept there against her will. "It must be possible to get away," she thought. It only wanted nerve and determination, for there was but the wall of the house between her and safety. Soon after breakfast the housekeeper appeared again, to remove the breakfast things. "Would you mind me coming to tidy up your room, ma'am, while you are here, or would you prefer my waiting till you go down?" "Do it now," said Kate, quietly; and to avoid being spoken to, she took up a book and held it as if she were reading. But all the time she was noting everything, with her senses on the alert, and the next minute her heart began to throb wildly, for she saw the woman go to the door, pass out the tray, and it was evident that some order was given. Becky was there, and Kate sat trembling, her excitement increasing when the next minute there was a light tap at the door, and Becky was admitted to assist in rearranging the room. This went on for about a quarter of an hour, with Becky carefully minding not to glance at the prisoner, who, with head bent, watched her every movement, on the hope of her being left alone for a few minutes. But as the mother was always near at hand, the opportunity did not come; and at last, with the envelope doubled in her hand, Kate began to feel that she might give up this time, and would have to wait till she could see the woman passing her room. The disappointment was terrible, and Kate's heart sank in her despair as the housekeeper suddenly said: "There, that will do--get on downstairs." She stood back for her daughter to pass her, and then followed to the door, where a whispered conversation ensued. "What? Left the brush?" "Yes; other side of the room." "Be quick, then. Fetch it out." The housekeeper was passing through the door as she spoke, and Becky reappeared, to cross the room hurriedly, with her face lighting up as she gave the prisoner a meaning look, drew something from her bosom, and thrust it into Kate's hand, and took the note offered to her. "Now, Becky!" came from outside. The woman darted to the door. "Well?" "Can't find it. Tain't there." The door closed, and Kate was once more alone, to eagerly examine the tiny packet handed to her. It was square, about an inch across, roughly tied up with black worsted, and proved to be a sheet of note paper, doubled up small, and containing the words, written in an execrable hand: "You run away. Come down at twelve o'clock, and I'll let you out threw the airy."