“Treasure!” echoed Rees, with a long, loud laugh of scornful amusement, which his intense excitement enabled him to simulate quite naturally. “Oh, if you believe that story, of course you can believe anything. If you were to hear I was a murderer, you would take it for granted. I think you will feel easier if I relieve you of my presence. It’s not pleasant for a lady to be alone with a rogue so late in the evening.” He raised his cap, and was hurrying in the direction of the principal gate, and had reached the outer court of the castle, when Lady Marion, always weak when she ought to have been strong, ran after him in the humblest of moods. “Rees! Rees!” she cried, “I didn’t mean what I said. Come back! I’m going to Mrs. Crow for a candle, and I’m going to hunt through those rooms that we call the dungeons, for I’m sure I heard some one there. Won’t you help me?” Rees grew hot with fright. How on earth was he to keep her from carrying out this fatal intention? Unluckily for him, she noticed his hesitation, and putting a shrewd interpretation upon it, she ran on past him, and had burst open the door of the custodian’s room before he could stop her. Rees was beside himself. In his rage, impatience, and confusion, no plan for stopping her occurred to him, and he stood by the great gateway of the castle, kicking his heels against its huge beams in blank despair. As he did so, the gate, which alone was used now, creaked and slowly gave way behind him. He turned, and perceived that the big key of the gate had been left in the lock by Mrs. Crow when she admitted Lady Marion. He thrust it open, putting his shoulder against it impatiently, and found himself face to face with Amos Goodhare. Rees uttered an exclamation of relief and joy. Here was advice and help. “What am I to do?” he whispered hurriedly. “Lady Marion is here, suspects something, and insists on searching the place.” “Make up to her, of course,” said Amos, who had very nearly added “you fool.” “Let her think you are crazy about her, and she’ll hold her tongue safe enough. Just the kind of girl--mad as a hatter and not too handsome; nothing like that sort to keep a man’s secret. Go in.” Rees obeyed; indeed, Amos emphasized his injunction by a push which sent him staggering. But as the door was drawn softly to behind him, he felt his spirit rising in resentment at this change in the librarian’s manner towards him. For Amos had suddenly dropped his pedantic respectfulness, his gentle movements, had looked at him with fierce impatience, and had been both rough and rude. “I shall just wash my hands of the whole thing, and go home,” he said to himself. But he hesitated, with his hand upon the gate. At that moment Lady Marion appeared at the door of the lodge, candle in hand, and with just a glance at him, made swiftly across the courtyard in the direction of the “dungeons,” as the vaulted apartments overlooking the river were called.