"All ready, Purcell?" demanded the lady. "Quite ready, Miss Margaret." "Where is Colonel Brand?" "Still at the castle, miss." "Did you give him my letter yourself?" "I did, miss." "What did he say?" Mr. Purcell shook his head and looked disgusted. "You must tell me what he said, Purcell?" insisted Margaret. "He said nothing that I'd be proud to repeat, Miss Margaret," said Purcell, sourly. "He up and cursed you like a madman, and said, 'Let her go if she dares!'" "What else?" "Ordered out his horse." "Intending to find me before I started--do you think?" "Yes, miss; but I left him cross-questioning Symonds, who wouldn't give him any satisfaction." "Very good. Now we must hasten, or we shall miss the train." She hurried on her traveling-cloak, and, accompanied by Purcell, descended to the station, where the train was ready to start and got on board in time. From behind her thick crape vail she watched every passenger who crossed the platform to enter any of the long line of cars, and the flaming street-lamps revealed every face distinctly. Porters hustled each other; newsboys shouted their papers; ladies made blind sallies to the wrong class car and lost themselves in the throng; gentlemen with umbrellas, carpet-bags and plaids elbowed their way into empty compartments; but Roland Mortlake was not among the mob. She had slipped the chain and got free. The train glided out of the shed and set itself to its night's work, and Margaret sank back to her seat with a sigh of relief. "I have outwitted him," she thought. "His calculations upon my expected movements are all astray. I have taken him by surprise. I shall find Dr. Gay in Llandaff, sure enough. I did right to go in search of him." On rushed the train through the darkness of night. Purcell, who sat beside his mistress, spread a plaid over the back of her seat, and pinned it about her shoulders, grumbling that she would take her death of cold in the drafty car; and presently she fell fast asleep, with her head resting against the jarring panel. Purcell, too, dozed off, and dreamed that he was in his own cozy room at Castle Brand; and only awoke with the banging of a door ringing in his ears and the soft hand of his mistress clutching his arm. The train was gliding on again, but it had paused one minute at a little country station, and a man had entered. He was muffled in a huge fur coat, and seated himself near Margaret, with a grunt of satisfaction that he had a whole seat to extend his legs upon. Margaret regarded him keenly, and he returned her gaze with stolid indifference. Purcell growled out his disapprobation of the new-comer's placing his clumsy foot against his mistress' long dress, and the man serenely changed his position, wound a scarlet muffler about his copper-colored throat, and settled himself for a nap.