"Oblige me, darling," he whispered, with quivering lips. "Return to your room, confide in my unsleeping watchfulness over you; _you never shall go to Lancashire_. In the last extremity, rely upon my being there to save--_now_ I cannot, _will_ not; I should say, to do so, I should have to reproach myself." She looked up, not knowing his meaning, in answer to what her prayer had seemed to implore, namely, flight. She did not know what she uttered, in her terror at the idea of separation. "It is all very well bidding her go to her room," chimed in Mrs. Gillett; "but tell me how is it to be done?" "Search," he answered, now perfectly calm, though pale. "You must have many keys--search, you will find one." In a moment, the woman shook bunch after bunch out of basket, pocket, and cupboard. After a long and anxious examination, she selected three as "likely ones," and, armed with these, crept up-stairs alone, to try them first. "Dearest," whispered he hurriedly, after she left the room, "there are things we must trust no one with--never name my visit to your room. I might, possibly, come again thus, but I will not; I would not have your fame endangered--oh, not even if by those visits I could win you! But do this: look from your window at eleven to-morrow night, and I will devise some means of communicating safely with you. I fear Gillett will serve us no more; the poor woman is alarmed at possible consequences." "Hush! here she comes," ejaculated Minnie; and, as she spoke, the woman came hastily in: there was joy on her countenance. "Come," she said, in a low tone, "I've found one; and, if they catch me at these tricks again, they may leave me in the lurch!" She was evidently addressing her thoughts to some invisible Fates. No entreaties could move her obdurate determination--she was firm.