"Curse her!" he muttered. "I could slay her at once, but I'll take her with him. Pest on this fellow, how long he is!" He was completely out of patience when he heard the stairs creak, and Sir Mark crept softly down. "Quick!" the founder cried, "or we shall be too late. Now," he whispered, "go you and watch, sword in hand, by the bridge. You can manage without going in this time, while I search the garden. We'll trap him to-night. How dare he come?" The couple separated, and, each taking his apportioned part, Gil Carr's chance of escape seemed small indeed. He was beneath Mace's window, and in another minute the founder, sword in hand, would have been upon him, had not a faint cry from another part of the garden drawn him aside to where, dimly enough, he could see Mace's cloak and hood beside a tall dark figure. The founder stood watching for a few minutes, and, sooth to say, hesitating; for now it had come to a point, he was loth to injure Gil, partly from a latent liking for him, partly because of his power amongst the people of the place. But the recollection of Abel Churr's disappearance made his heart grow stern, and, with the full determination to chastise Gil for his insolence in coming to the house after being so sternly forbidden, he cautiously advanced to where the figures were standing. The catching of a rose-thorn in his doublet and the sharp rustle the twig gave in being released sufficed to alarm the wearer of the cloak, and she glided quickly down the garden-walk with her companion, disappearing from the founder's gaze; and, though he followed them cautiously, they must have gone down some side-path, for he could not see them again. "Pest on them!" he muttered. "They knew I was on the watch." Under this impression he crept cautiously back towards the house, expecting to see them there; but, though he waited some time, there was no sign, and he went down the garden again, which, fortunately for Gil, was sufficiently extensive to allow of the meeting in progress going on unheard. The founder was not aware of the fact, but more than once in the darkness he was literally hunting the two figures, which kept gliding on before him, avoiding him almost by a miracle, till in sheer weariness and disgust he returned to where Sir Mark was impatiently watching near the bridge. "Well! Hast seen them?" he said. "Nay," said the founder, "only once. We'll wait here and see if they come." The words had scarcely left his lips before he uttered an exclamation, and ran towards the house, just in time to catch a dark figure stealing towards the door. "Quick!" he whispered to Sir Mark, who had followed him; and, half-carrying the captive within doors, the founder tore aside the hood, exclaiming against his daughter for her wanton ways. "What will Sir Mark think of you?" he cried angrily. "He will--Why, curse the girl; it's Janet!"