"Yes, I can recollect it all clearly now," panted Leslie. "You must know!" And he told them all. They heard him in silence, devouring his words, and from time to time exchanging a hurried glance of inquiry. "Bah!" ejaculated Uncle Luke, as the young man finished. Then, changing his manner, "Yes, of course. There, lie back, my lad, and tell us again after you've had a rest." "No, no," cried Leslie passionately, "it is wasting time. She was forced to go. She was imploring him to let her stay when I came in, and they must be miles away by now. For heaven's sake do something before it is too late." "A Frenchman?" said Uncle Luke eagerly. "Yes; he spoke to her in French, as well as in English." "And did my niece speak to him in French?" "No; she was appealing to him in English, but he spoke at times in French." "Do you hear this, George? Has Louise a French friend?" "No," cried her father angrily, "it is a delusion." "I would to heaven it were," groaned Leslie, "I would to heaven it were!" George Vine crossed to the bell-pull, and rang sharply, repeating the summons before Liza had time to enter the room. "When did you see your mistress last?" he said sharply. "When I took in the lamp, sir." Liza knew no more, and was dismissed, after staring wonderingly from one to the other. "Stop!" cried Uncle Luke. "Go up and ask Miss Vine if my niece has been with her." Liza returned with an answer in the negative; and as soon as they were alone, Leslie said piteously: "You disbelieve me." "No, no, my lad," said Uncle Luke; "we only think you are suffering from your fall, and distrust what you have, or think you have, seen." "Think!" said Leslie angrily. "You say some man was with my niece--a Frenchman." "Yes; I am bound to tell you for her sake." "It is not true," cried George Vine fiercely. They looked at him with surprise, for he seemed transformed from the quiet, mild-looking man to one full of fierce determination as he stood there with flashing eyes. "My daughter knew no Frenchman." Leslie winced as if stung, for the mental suggestion was there that Louise had hoodwinked her father, and kept up some clandestine engagement with this man. "Do you hear me?" cried Vine angrily. "I say it is not true. Mr Leslie, you have been deceived, or you have deceived yourself. I beg your pardon. You are not yourself. It seems useless to discuss this further. Luke, all this seems mysterious because we have no key to the puzzle. Pish! puzzle! it is no puzzle. Louise will be here shortly. Mr Leslie, be advised; lie still for an hour, and then my brother and I will see you home. Or, better still, let me offer you the hospitality of my house for the night."