see whether the man lived or died, when I left the village, miss, with the gentleman's answer to your note. I didn't dare stay to hear how it ended, for fear of Mr. Turlington's finding me out." Having reached the end of his narrative, the man looked round restlessly toward the window. It was impossible to say when his master might not return, and it might be as much as his life was worth to be caught in the house after he had been locked out of it. He begged permission to open the window, and make his escape back to the stables while there was still time. As he unbarred the shutter they were startled by a voice hailing them from below. It was Launce's voice calling to Natalie. The servant disappeared, and Natalie was in Launce's arms before she could breathe again. For one delicious moment she let her head lie on his breast; then she suddenly pushed him away from her. "Why do you come here? He will kill you if he finds you in the house. Where is he?" Launce knew even less of Turlington's movements than the servant. "Wherever he is, thank God, I am here before him!" That was all the answer he could give. Natalie and her aunt heard him in silent dismay. Sir Joseph woke, and recognized Launce before a word more could be said. "Ah, my dear boy!" he murmured, faintly. "It's pleasant to see you again. How do you come here?" He was quite satisfied with the first excuse that suggested itself. "We'll talk about it to-morrow," he said, and composed himself to rest again. Natalie made a second attempt to persuade Launce to leave the house. "We don't know what may have happened," she said. "He may have followed you on your way here. He may have purposely let you enter his house. Leave us while you have the chance." Miss Lavinia added her persuasions. They were useless. Launce quietly closed the heavy window-shutters, lined with iron, and put up the bar. Natalie wrung her hands in despair. "Have you been to the magistrate?" she asked. "Tell us, at least, are you here by his advice? Is he coming to help us?" Launce hesitated. If he had told the truth, he must have acknowledged that he was there in direct opposition to the magistrate's advice. He answered evasively, "If the vicar doesn't come, the doctor will. I have told him Sir Joseph must be moved. Cheer up, Natalie! The doctor will be here as soon as Turlington." As the name passed his lips--without a sound outside to prepare them for what was coming--the voice of Turlington himself suddenly penetrated into the room, speaking close behind the window, on the outer side. "You have broken into my house in the night," said the voice. "And you don't escape _this_ way."