"An attempt at burglary? How very extraordinary!" "And she is raving about it, poor soul. Oh, dear me, we must send for Dr. Gay." "Yes, you had better send for Dr. Gay instantly, Chetwode. What may the nature of her ravings be?" inquired the colonel, blandly. "All sorts of things: that your dog there was at her door all night, and--and other fancies." "Ah!" in a tone of sympathetic interest; "unfortunate girl! Here, Argus, good dog, speak up for your character, my boy!" The dog blinked his small blood-shot eyes, and rose to shake himself, as if he meditated a spring upon his traducer. "Oh, Lor', don't show me to him," exclaimed Mrs. Chetwode, shrinking out of view. The colonel showed his long, hungry teeth, by way of grim smile, and gave the animal a kick. "Don't be afraid. Are you going to send, then, for Miss Walsingham's friends?" "Would you say so, sir?" said the anxious creature, wavering between the desire to humor her young mistress, and the fear of disobeying the colonel. "I would say so, certainly. The affair of the attempted robbery should certainly be followed up for one thing; her state of mind attended to for another." Margaret's bell rang, and Mrs. Chetwode went up stairs, almost afraid to venture near her again. "Has Symonds got the carriage ready?" cried Margaret, the instant she appeared. She was sitting with her bonnet on, dressed for her drive, with a satchel in her hand. "Lor', you're not fit to go out," ejaculated Chetwode, in amazement. "We're going to have Dr. Gay up to the castle, since you want him so, my deary." "Did Colonel Brand say I was not to leave the house?" demanded Margaret. "He thinks you're not well enough, that's a fact." "I defy him, or any one to keep me prisoner here. You must disregard him, Mrs. Chetwode, and get me driven down to Regis." "I'm afeard to do it, Miss Margaret." "Then I shall defy him, and go before his eyes. Get Symonds ready silently, that there may be no opposition. As you value my life, go." Mrs. Chetwode, torn between two influences, and always subject to the latest, bounded out of the room as if the limbs of twenty years ago had been miraculously granted her, and went stealthily enough down the long stairs to the servant's quarters. In fifteen minutes she ventured back with a bottle of wine under her apron. "He's ready, miss, and at the lower door. You needn't meet the colonel at all; he's just gone into the library, and shut himself in. Now, my poor miss, you must drink something before you go to strengthen you, and eat a bite." "Nothing in this house--no!" cried Margaret, shuddering; "I cannot be sure of even the food!" "Don't let them put you in a hasylum, deary love; be careful what you say, now won't you?" "No fear of that with these papers," replied Margaret, holding up the satchel exultingly. By dint of perseverance the housekeeper prevailed upon her to drink a glass of wine.