There was evidently some mistake. No one had a right to answer me thus--least of all an Elsie--my wife's name being Mary, and she as little likely to address me as "Dearest Joe," as to call me the Grand Mogul! In fact, it was nothing less than a prodigious liberty--whoever Elsie might be. But a thought flashed across my mind. The young dog! At it already! If I had my hand on his collar, I would teach him to be anybody's "Dearest Joe!" "Dearest Joe" indeed! I would "Dearest Joe" him! But after all the situation had made me smile, and I knew that there was but one Elsie in Breckonside--Elsie Stennis--and as good a girl as ever stepped! Too good for Joe, if only she had her rights--what with the old rascal's property, not that I minded much about that--and a temper which would make Master Joe toe the line. He had need of that--I never! Now I do not say that I thought all that then. I desire to be exact in the smallest details. I merely smiled, perhaps a little grimly, and rapped out the correction--"Joseph Yarrow, Senior." I knew that would surprise her. For I must have had the reputation of being in my grave for many days before the wretched crew at Deep Moat Grange got hold of her. Then very falteringly was rapped out the further question: "Are you really Joe's father?" I replied that I had been given to believe so, but that Joe's apparent conduct might well give rise to doubts. The answer came back at once: "You don't mean that, Mr. Yarrow!" Which, I will own, fairly conquered me--almost made me laugh, and though an old man, I felt quite warm about the heart. Now, when I came to think of it, I had always liked to see Elsie Stennis tripping about the village streets. One picture I was foolish enough to remember--a dingy November day after it had been raining, and Elsie going to school to her teaching. She was crossing the little dirty place in front of Ebie McClintock's forge, and she stooped to pick up her skirts, giving them a little shake, and then hopped across with her nose in the air--pert and pretty as a robin redbreast. No fool like an old fool. I am speaking to you--Mr. Joseph Yarrow, Senior. CHAPTER XXVI COMRADES IN CAPTIVITY After that we had much intercourse. There was, indeed, little else to do, though now I know that the periods when I could get no answer were those in which the three sisters still in hiding were in the habit of visiting Elsie in company generally with Mad Jeremy. Little by little, however, Miss Stennis--well, after being addressed as "Dearest Joe" I suppose I may as well say "Elsie"--told me all about her position--the manner of her capture, and the liberty, comparative though it was, which she enjoyed. I made up my mind at once that if I were to escape at all, it must be through her chamber.