George Vine crossed to the bell-pull, and rang sharply, repeating the summons before Liza had time to enter the room. "When did you see your mistress last?" he said sharply. "When I took in the lamp, sir." Liza knew no more, and was dismissed, after staring wonderingly from one to the other. "Stop!" cried Uncle Luke. "Go up and ask Miss Vine if my niece has been with her." Liza returned with an answer in the negative; and as soon as they were alone, Leslie said piteously, "You disbelieve me." "No, no, my lad," said Uncle Luke; "we only think you are suffering from your fall, and distrust what you have, or think you have, seen." "Think!" said Leslie angrily. "You say some man was with my niece--a Frenchman." "Yes; I am bound to tell you for her sake." "It is not true," cried George Vine fiercely. They looked at him with surprise, for he seemed transformed from the quiet, mild-looking man to one full of fierce determination as he stood there with flashing eyes. "My daughter knew no Frenchman." Leslie winced as if stung, for the mental suggestion was there that Louise had hoodwinked her father and kept up some clandestine engagement with this man. "Do you hear me?" cried Vine angrily. "I say it is not true. Mr Leslie, you have been deceived, or you have deceived yourself. I beg your pardon. You are not yourself. It is useless to discuss this further. Luke, all this seems mysterious because we have no key to the puzzle. Pish! puzzle! it is no puzzle. Louise will be here shortly. Mr Leslie, be advised; lie still for an hour, and then my brother and I will see you home. Or, better still, let me offer you the hospitality of my house for the night." The cloud that had obscured Leslie's brain had now passed away, leaving his mental perceptions clear, while his temper was exacerbated by the injury he had received, and by the agony he suffered on account of Louise. In place of lying back, he rose from the couch and faced George Vine, with his lips quivering and an angry look in his eyes. "Look," he said hoarsely, "I am weak and helpless. If I take a few steps I shall reel and fall, or I would do what I tried to do before, act on her behalf. You mock at my words. You, her father, and stand there wasting time; valuable time, which, if used now, might save that poor girl from a life of misery. Do you hear me? I tell you she has gone--fled with that man. He forced her to go with threats. Do you not hear me?" "Leslie, my lad," said Uncle Luke, "be calm, be calm." "You are as mad and blind as he!" cried Leslie. "Heaven help me, and I am as weak as a child." He strode towards the door, and proved the truth of his words, for he tottered, and would have fallen but for Uncle Luke. "There, you see," he cried fiercely, "I can do nothing, and you, uncle and father, stand blind to the misery and disgrace which threaten you." "Silence!" cried George Vine; "I can hear no more." He turned upon Leslie fiercely.