"Great heavens!" he thought, "can that woman have killed Meg, and set fire to the place to conceal her crime?" This seemed to be the true explanation to his agitated mind, the more so as, in racing down the street, he ran against a man wringing his hands, and crying aloud. It was Dr. Merle. "Where is Meg? Is she safe?" demanded Dan, pausing a moment in his headlong career. "No, no!" wailed Merle, "she went to see Miss Linisfarne. She is at----" But Dan waited to hear no more. His worst forebodings appeared likely to be realized; and, frantic with dread at the danger of Meg, he sped on to the Court. He arrived in time to see the iron gates wrenched off their hinges by the stalwart arms of the villagers, who afterwards poured in through the gate. Carried along with the disorderly crowd up the avenue, Dan found himself at the elbow of the vicar. "Jarner, Jarner! Meg!" "What of her?" asked the parson, with anxiety. "Is she not with her father?" "No! She went to the Court to see Miss Linisfarne." "Great heavens!" muttered Jarner, in alarm. "Can it be that----" "For God's sake, Jarner, don't suppose anything so horrible," burst out Dan; "it is impossible. Meg must be safe." "Safe in that!" said Jarner, pointing to the Court, at the back of which red flames shot upward to the stars amid black clouds of smoke. "If harm comes to her I'll kill Miss Linisfarne." "I hope she has not killed herself! We must rescue both, if we can." "But the fire--the fire! Cannot it be put out?" cried Dan, as they mounted the terrace. "There is no water." Dan clenched his fists! It was horrible to think of the danger in which Meg was placed. The few servants were gathered together on the terrace, and the front door was wide open. In answer to the vicar's questions they said that both Miss Linisfarne and Meg were in the house. The housekeeper had seen them go towards the west wing. It was that part of the house that was on fire. "I must save her," said Dan, shaking himself free from Jarner's grasp; "let me go." He ran into the hall, and up the stairs. As he did so a huge form shot past him, and he saw to his astonishment that it was Tim. The face of the gipsy was quite pale, and he raced up the stairs with such rapidity as even to distance Dan. "Tim, Tim! Where is the west wing?" "I know, rye! Follow me!" The front of the house was quite safe, as the fire was confined to the west wing, and they rapidly threaded a maze of corridors. Tim seemed to know the way, and at length paused before a door. He tried to open it, but found it locked. "This leads to the west wing. They are in there. Help me to break it down."