Our joy was so great—would it last? That was the purport of my sensation, if I may express it so. I longed at that moment to be able to look into the future. What had the Fates in store for me—for us both? Perhaps it was as well I didn't know. We had entered the park gates, and were half-way up the long avenue of tall elms and stately oaks, when I saw a light approaching through the darkness. It came nearer, and we guessed it must be a man on foot, carrying a lantern. Now he was quite close. "Is that Miss Dulcie? a voice inquired out of the blackness, as the light became stationary. "Yes. That you, Churchill?" Dulcie called back. Churchill was the head gardener. Born and bred on the estate, there were few things he loved better than to recall to mind, and relate to anybody sufficiently patient to listen to him, stories and anecdotes of the family. Of "Miss Dulcie" he would talk for an hour if you let him, telling you how he remembered her when she was "not so high," and of the things she had done and said as a child. "What do you want, Churchill?" she called to him, as he remained silent. Still for some moments he did not speak. At last he apparently plucked up courage. "There's been sad doings at the house," he said, and his voice was strained. "Sad doings!" Dulcie exclaimed in alarm. "Why, what do you mean?" "There's been a shocking robbery, Miss Dulcie—shocking. You'll hear all about it when you go in. I thought it best to warn you about it. And Master Dick—" He stopped abruptly. "Good heavens, Churchill!" she cried out in great alarm, "quick, tell me what has happened, tell me everything. What about Master Dick?" "He's been served shocking, Miss. Oh, it's a terrible affair. The whole house looted during the hunt breakfast this, morning, and Master Dick—" "Yes! Yes!" "Treated something crool." "Dick! They haven't hurt Dick. Oh, don't say they have done him some injury!" The tone of agony in her voice was piteous. "He's come round now, Miss Dulcie, but he's been unconscious for hours. They put chloroform or something on him—Sir Roland himself found him in one of the upstairs rooms, lying on the floor just like dead." "Oh, heavens, how awful! How is he now?"