The sentry was within a few paces of him, but the wind, coming from an opposite direction, blew the blinding rain in the soldier's face. He was wide awake, though, and, on finding something was astir not far off, uttered the usual query, "Who goes there?" The steady reply of "Friend," and the countersign "Albany," were sufficient; the sentry imagined it was some officer passing from one tent to another; the convict plunged below the bank in rear of the guardroom, which was on a line with the Daveneys' cottage; and, scrambling on till he came to the group of willows, sprang into the garden, and saw before him a window. A light shone through the muslin curtain. It readily yielded to his touch; he looked in--his pale, sorrowful-looking wife was before him. What a contrast with the turmoils through which he had passed, with the wild uncertainty which made his bosom throb, was the sight of this grave, sad, innocent woman, alone in the stillness of dawn, with her Bible beside her! It was so totally unlike what he had experienced since he had first known her, that he was softened, though confounded, at the sight. He wanted words; he felt as if he could have said something kind, but did not know how. Ah! the scorched and fiery ground of the sinful man's mind hath no resting-place for the angel's foot. The good spirit halted on the threshold; nevertheless, Jasper wore a look unusual to him, and when it had passed away, it haunted Eleanor like a vision. Her memory of it was touched with something like compassion, and it was well that it was so. The cry was raised, "The prisoner has escaped." The morning broke cold and chill, and the vapours hung about the hills, as the little force of Cape cavalry and its infantry supports were mustered, ere they started on the _spoor_ of the convict, with orders also to reconnoitre the ground haunted by the enemy. It was May who had discovered the _spoor_. Devoted to the Daveneys, and especially attached to Eleanor, he had built for himself a little pent-house, a _lean-to_, beneath the eastern window of her room. In this he, and Fitje, and Ellen, and Ormsby's gallant hound--May's friend and playmate--all slept at night. May was always ready to accompany the Commissioner in his rounds; he was at hand any moment during the twenty-four hours; he was as watchful as the hound. Although he had never enlightened Fitje on the subject of Eleanor's miserable connection with Lyle, he had followed her through her whole history, and a vague sense of dread for her sake hung about him as soon as he learned that her tormentor had re-appeared in the shape of Lee the convict.