The young lady had sunk to sleep at last, carefully wrapped in Wilton's cloak, and the bagman, having exhausted either his powers or his subject, composed himself to slumber. But Wilton could not rest for a long time, and he seemed hardly to have lost consciousness before they stopped at Carlisle. Here the commercial traveller alighted, and Wilton's puzzling companion woke up. "We shall be at Monkscleugh in three-quarters of an hour," said Wilton; "can I be of any further use to you if your friends are not there to meet you, as may be the case?" "There will be no friends to meet me," she replied; "but I need trouble you no more: I go to the house of one of the Brosedale employés, who will send me on." "After a hair-breadth 'scape, such as ours," said Wilton, amused at his own unwonted bashfulness and difficulty in putting the question, "may I ask the name of my comrade in danger?" "My name?" with some surprise. "Oh, Ella--Ella Rivers." "And mine; do you not care to inquire?" said Wilton, bending forward to look into her eyes. "Yes," she said, slowly, with a slight sigh; "what is your name?" "Wilton." "Have you no other?--there is always more character in a Christian name." "Mine is Ralph." "Ralph--Ralph--I do not seem to understand it. Are you noble?" "No; simply Colonel Wilton." "Ah! a colonel is higher than a captain, and lower than a general?" "Just so." She relapsed into silence, scarcely responding to Wilton's endeavor to make her talk and turn her eyes upon him. He was surprised to find himself counting the minutes that remained before he should be compelled to lose sight of his curiously fascinating companion. The parting moment came all too quickly, and Wilton was obliged to say "Good-by." "I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you again," he said, politely. "There is nothing so unlikely," she returned, with a slight blush; "but," holding out her hand, "your kindness will always be a pleasant recollection." She bowed and turned away so decidedly that Wilton felt he must not follow. CHAPTER III.