Mrs. Vincent, who scarcely could endure to hear, and did not understand, rushed forward while he was speaking, and seized him by the arm--"Leave the room!" she cried with sudden passion--"He has made some impudent mistake, doctor. God help me!--will you let my child be insulted? Leave the room, sir--leave the room, I say! This is my daughter, Miss Vincent, lying here. Mary, ring the bell--he must be turned out of the room. Doctor, doctor! you are a man; you will never let my child be insulted because her brother is away." "What does it mean?" cried Dr. Rider--"go outside and I will come and speak to you. Miss Vincent is in a most dangerous state--perhaps dying. If you know her----" "Know her, doctor! you are speaking of my child," cried Mrs. Vincent, who faced the intruder with blazing eyes. The man held his ground, not impertinently, but with steadiness. "I know her fast enough," he said; "I've tracked her every step of the way; not to hurt the lady's feelings, I can't help what I'm doing, sir. It's murder;--I can't let her out of my sight." Mrs. Vincent clasped her hands together with a grasp of desperation. "What is murder?" she said, in a voice that echoed through the room. The doctor, with an exclamation of horror, repeated the same question. Murder! it seemed to ring through the shuddering house. "It's hard upon a lady, not to say her mother," said the man, compassionately; "but I have to do my duty. A gentleman's been shot where she's come from. She's the first as suspicion falls on. It often turns out as the one that's first suspected isn't the criminal. Don't fret, ma'am," he added, with a glance of pity, "perhaps it's only as a witness she'll be wanted--but I must stay here. I daren't let her out of my sight."