She listened attentively while he was speaking, and her face lost its tense look of terror. Once or twice she glanced furtively at him, noting the power and grace of his tall form, his easy, self-confident bearing and the manly frankness of his strong, swarthy face—more attractive than mere beauty to a woman so essentially feminine as Prudence. She was not afraid of him now, but she was extremely angry with fate, and at the moment he represented fate in its most inexorable form, so she wanted to be very angry with him. Yet she could not reproach him, for the harder she struck at him, the more she would wound her own pride. "It is all so terrible," she said, sighing wearily. Then the door was flung open, and Peggie darted in with the _News_ sheet in her hand. "Prue, Prue," she cried, flinging her arms round her cousin without observing that she was not alone. "He is not dead—he has been pardoned and is out of prison. Oh! my poor, dear Prue, to think you were all night breaking your heart for nothing—" "Hush, hush, Peggie!" Prue was scarlet to the roots of her hair, and with both her hands over Peggie’s mouth, tried to stifle her voice. "Mercy!" shrieked Peggie, suddenly discovering Robin. "How did you get here? What did you come for?" "For no evil purpose, my good Mistress Peggie," he replied good-humoredly. "I came as any other visitor and requested a few words in private with Lady Prudence Brooke. By good fortune, I found her here alone, and will now proceed to disclose the object of my visit, which is simply to ask her to take charge of this small packet for me, until I send a messenger for it." The packet was a compact one, about the size of an ordinary letter, and scarcely thicker, carefully stitched in a piece of white silk, and secured by a seal without any device. Robin held it out to Prue, but she made no movement to take it. "Oh! don’t be afraid that I would ask you to do anything dangerous," he went on earnestly. "If it concerned myself, I would not dare to trouble you, but this is a sacred trust, which I hold far above my life, and if I were rearrested, which is quite possible, I might not be able to rid myself of it in time to prevent a great disaster. It was for this reason that I took the unwarrantable liberty of calling upon the Viscountess Brooke. This packet concerns the life and fortune of many friends of hers, but no one would think of looking for it in the keeping of the Duchess of Marlborough’s favorite." "Friends of mine?" she exclaimed incredulously. "Then who are you?" "A poor soldier of fortune," he replied, bowing low as though introducing himself, "who has for a moment crossed your path, and in a few days will return to his natural obscurity and trouble you no more. All he asks is forgiveness for having so signally failed in keeping his part of the marriage contract."