Mabyn did not know what to answer: she was very much excited, and inclined to talk at random merely to cover her anxiety. She was now very late for the appointment, and who could tell what unfortunate misadventure Harry Trelyon might have met with? "Oh, I don't know," she said. "Why don't you admire young Lochinvar? Wenna, you're like the Laodiceans." "Like the what?" "Like the Laodiceans, that were neither cold nor hot. Why don't you admire young Lochinvar?" "Because he was interfering with another man's property." "That man had no right to her," said Mabyn, talking rather wildly, and looking on ahead to the point at which the path through the meadows went up to the road. "He was a wretched animal, I know: I believe he was a sugar-broker, and had just come home from Jamaica." "I believe," said Wenna--"I believe that young Lochinvar--" She stopped. "What's that?" she said. "What are those two lights up there?" "They're not ghosts: come along, Wenna," said Mabyn, hurriedly. * * * * * Let us go up to this road, where Harry Trelyon, tortured with anxiety and impatience, is waiting. He had slipped away from the house pretty nearly as soon as the gentlemen had gone into the drawing-room after dinner, and on some excuse or other had got the horses put to a light and yet roomy Stanhope phaeton. From the stable-yard he drove by a back way into the main road without passing in front of the Hall: then he quietly walked the horses down the steep hill and round the foot of the valley to the point at which Mabyn was to make her appearance. But he dared not stop there, for now and again some passer-by came along the road; and even in the darkness Mrs. Trelyon's gray horses would be recognized by any of the inhabitants of Eglosilyan, who would naturally wonder what Master Harry was waiting for. He walked them a few hundred yards one way, then a few hundred yards the other; and ever, as it seemed to him, the danger was growing greater of some one from the inn or from the Hall suddenly appearing and spoiling the whole plan. Half-past ten arrived, and nothing could be heard of the girls. Then a horrible thought struck him that Roscorla might by this time have left the Hall, and would he not be coming down to this very road on his way up to Basset Cottage? This was no idle fear: it was almost a matter of certainty. The minutes rolled themselves out into ages: he kept looking at his watch every few seconds, yet he could hear nothing from the wood or the valley of Mabyn's approach. Then he got down into the road, walked a few yards this way and that, apparently to stamp the nervousness out of his system, patted the horses, and finally occupied himself in lighting the lamps. He was driven by the delay into a sort of desperation. Even if Wenna and Mabyn did appear now, and if he was successful in his prayer, there was every chance of their being interrupted by Roscorla, who had without doubt left the Hall some time before.