Vincent started from his seat to see his wife moving slowly up the room, borne onward by the pressure of the crowd. Several of the villagers, impatient at the long delay, had struggled up the barn to get a hand-shake from the Squire and his wife. Hetty was carried with the rest out of her husband's sight. Vincent jumped on a bench in order to get a view. He saw Hetty moving forward, he had a good glimpse of her profile, the color on the cheek nearest to him was vivid as a damask rose. Her whole little figure was alert, full of determination, of a queer impulsive longing which the man saw without understanding. Suddenly he saw his wife fall backward against some of the advancing crowd; she clasped her hands together, then uttered a shrill, piercing cry. "Take me out of this for the love of God, Squire," she panted. "Is that young woman Mrs. Vincent?" suddenly cried another voice. "Then, if so, I've something to say to her." It was Mrs. Everett who had spoken. Hetty had not seen her until this moment. She was walking up the room accompanied by Awdrey's sisters, Ann and Dorothy. "I can't stay--I won't meet her--take me away, take me away, into the air, Squire," said Hetty. "Oh, I am suffocating," she continued, "the room is rising up as if it would choke me." "Open that door there to your right, Griffiths," said Awdrey, in a tone which rose above the tumult. "Come, Mrs. Vincent, take my arm." He drew Hetty's hand into his, and led her out by a side door. The crowd made way for them. In another instant the excited girl found the cool evening air blowing on her hot cheeks. "I am sorry you found the room too close," began Awdrey. "Oh, it was not that, sir, not really. Just wait a minute, please, Mr. Robert, until I get my breath. I did not know that she--that she was coming here." "Who do you mean?" asked Awdrey. "Mrs. Everett. I can't bear her. It was the sight of her, sudden-like, that took the breath from me." Awdrey did not speak for a moment. "You are better now," he said then, in a stony tone. "Is your husband here?" "Yes, but I don't want him." Hetty, in her excitement, laid both hands on the Squire's arm. "Mr. Robert, I must see you, and alone," she panted. Awdrey stepped back instinctively. "You don't want me to touch you, you don't want to have anything to do with me, and yet--and yet, Mr. Robert, I must see you by yourself. When I can see you alone?" "I cannot stay with you now," said Awdrey, in a hurried voice. "Come up to the house to-morrow. No, though, I shall have no time to attend to you to-morrow." "It must be to-morrow, sir. It is life or death; yes, it is life or death." "Well, to-morrow let it be," said Awdrey, after a pause, "six o'clock in the evening. Don't call at the house, come round to the office. I'll be there and I'll give you a few minutes. Now I see you are better," he continued, "I'll go back to the barn and fetch Vincent."