"Great heavens! how ghastly pale you look, Reginald!" he cried; "you apprehend some great misfortune--some dreadful accident?" "I scarcely know," gasped the baronet; "but I own that I feel considerable alarm--the--the river--the current was so strong after the thaw--the stream so swollen by melted snow. If--if Lionel's horse should have tried to swim the river--and failed--" "And we are lingering here!" cried Douglas, passionately; "lingering here and talking, instead of acting! Are those horses ready there?" he shouted, rushing out to the portico. His voice was heard in the darkness without, urging on the grooms as they led out fresh horses from the quadrangle. "Gordon!" cried Lydia Graham, "you will go out with the others. You will do your uttermost in the search for Mr. Lionel Dale!" She said this in a loud, ringing voice, with the imperious tone of a woman accustomed to command. She was leaning against one angle of the great chimney-piece, pale as ashes, breathless, but not fainting. To her, the idea that any calamity had befallen Lionel Dale was very dreadful--almost as dreadful as it could be to the brother who so truly loved him; for her own interest was involved in this man's life, and with her that was ever paramount. She was well-nigh fainting; but she was too much a woman of the world not to know that if she had given way to her emotion at that moment, she would have given rise to disgust and annoyance, rather than interest, in the minds of the gentlemen present. She knew this, and she wished to please every one; for in pleasing the many lies the secret of a woman's success with the few. Even in that moment of confusion and excitement, the scheming woman determined to stand well in the eyes of Douglas Dale. As he appeared on the threshold of the great hall-door, she went up to him very quietly, with her head uncovered, and her pale, clearly-cut face revealed by the light of the lamp above her. She laid her hand gently on the young man's arm. "Mr. Dale." she said, "command my brother Gordon; he will be proud to obey you. I will go out myself to aid in the search, if you will let me do so." Douglas Dale clasped her hand in both his with grateful emotion. "You are a noble girl," he cried; "but you cannot help me in this. Your brother Gordon may, perhaps, and I will call upon his friendship without reserve. And now leave us, Miss Graham; this is no fitting scene for a lady. Come, gentlemen!" he exclaimed, "the horses are ready. I go by the village, and thence to the river; you will each take different roads, and will all meet me on the river-bank, at the spot where we crossed to-day." In less than five minutes all had mounted, and the trampling of hoofs announced their departure. Reginald was amongst them, hardly conscious of the scene or his companions.