She brushed away her tears, drew down her veil, and alighted, telling the driver to wait for her; whereupon the man took the bit out of his horse’s mouth and abandoned himself to slumber, while the animal cropped the stunted grass contentedly. Some sheep that had been lying in the pathway skipped awkwardly away as Maude crossed the bare enclosure; and as she approached the door, it was opened by a tall gaunt woman, who had evidently been disturbed by the unwonted sound of wheels on the rough moorland road. “Mr. Tredethlyn has been staying here, has he not?” Maude asked, eagerly. “Yes, ma’am; and he’s here still. Excuse me for being a little put out like, but you have taken me so aback. You don’t happen to be my master’s wife, do you?” “Yes, yes! Oh, thank Heaven, he is still here! Let me see him at once, please!” exclaimed Maude, trying to pass the grim-looking woman who barred her passage. “Not yet! Oh, please, ma’am, not yet!” cried the woman, eagerly. “It mightn’t be safe.” “Not safe! What do you mean?” “He has been so ill, ma’am; and the doctor’s special orders was that he was to be kept from anything that might upset him. And he talked and raved so about you, poor dear, when his senses were quite gone, as they were for days together; and I’m sure nothing could upset him so much as the sight of your coming upon him sudden. Let me see him first, and tell him you are here. I make no doubt he’ll be overjoyed to see you; but it mustn’t come like a shock upon him.” “He has been ill!” cried Maude; “dangerously ill!” “Yes, ma’am; very dangerously. We had two doctors with him at one time. Brain fever it was; over-fatigue and trouble of the mind, and so on, the doctors said. He came up here after being too late for the steamer by which he was to have gone abroad; and he came to settle everything about the farm and the quarries, and so on; and he worked at it night and day, without rest nor sleep, though me and my husband told him how bad it was for him; and everything was almost settled when he woke one morning bad in his head, and after that got from bad to worse, until his life was almost give up.” “But he is out of danger now?” “Yes, ma’am, thank God, quite out of danger now; but, oh, so weak; the smallest child that ever I had to do with wasn’t weaker than my poor master now.” Maude burst out crying. Until this moment she had stood, pale and breathless, waiting to hear that she was indeed too late--that Francis Tredethlyn had escaped the destruction of the _Kingfisher_ only to find death waiting for him in his own home. “Don’t mind me,” she exclaimed, as the gaunt woman made a clumsy attempt to comfort her; “I am crying for joy. Go and tell my husband that I am here; but not at any hazard to him. I will be very patient. Thank God I have found him! thank God I shall be able to fall on my knees by his bed-side and beg his forgiveness for my neglect and ingratitude!”