The boy had taken refuge from the raging tempest here, and had after a while dropped off asleep. Half-awakened by the voices, he had dimly heard the conversation. “Please, zur,” he said, lugging at some stray locks of red hair lying on his freckled forehead, “do’ee want onybody to run a message to thay Hall, zur? ’Cause, if so be ’ee do, I be main glad to do it for your honor, zur.” Captain Desfrayne looked at him in mingled doubt and displeasure. He reflected for a moment or two, then said: “How would you get to the Hall, boy?” “Why, zur, along thay dark places with thay pillars.” “Are you sure you know the way, my lad?” “Zartain zure, zur. Whoy, often’s been the time when me, and Bill Heath, and Joe Tollard, and all thay rest o’ ’em hev played hoide and zeek in ’em. Oh! I knows thay way, zure enough.” It would not be possible to refuse to allow this eager substitute to go on the pressing errand he had himself contemplated. Paul Desfrayne was compelled to let him go. “Well, make haste, and bring somebody to take care of these young ladies,” he said. “What is your name--Robin Roughhead?” “No, zur--George Netherclift.” “Well, Master George Netherclift, if ever you made haste in your life, do so now.” The boy--a great lumping lad of fourteen or fifteen, with a stolid, good-humored, red-yellow face, and a thick-set figure, clad in a smock frock and a pair of tough corduroy trousers--started on with more nimbleness than any one would have given him credit for. In the silence, his clattering, hob-nailed boots raised countless echoes in the rude, vaulted passages as he trotted along. An uncomfortable embarrassment succeeded his departure. Lois felt ashamed of her weakness, and abashed in the presence of the tall, handsome captain, unable to forget the secret link that in a measure bound their lives together. Paul Desfrayne almost cursed the destiny that had thus dragged him within those dangerous precincts he would fain shun. Blanche Dormer caught the infection from these two, who were acquainted with each other, yet seemed to make some mystery of the matter, and so she remained silent. Lois dared not lift her eyes from the ground. Paul Desfrayne stood at some distance, viewing the rain as it plashed down, and regarding the now more rarely recurring flashes of lightning with an absent air, as if his real thoughts were far away.