“Will you lead the way and let me follow? That is all I ask of you.” “Certainly, and if you could only go out over my dead body, that price should be paid, and you should go.” Dudleigh spoke quickly, but with no particular earnestness. Indeed, in all his tones there was a lack of earnestness. The words were excellent, but they lacked depth and warmth. Edith, however, was too much excited by the prospect of help to notice this. “There is no need of that,” said she; “there is no real danger.” “I rather think from the look of that ruffian at the gate that there will be some such price,” said Dudleigh, carelessly. “If I had only brought my pistols, all would be easy. Can it be managed? How shall we do it? Do you think that you have nerve enough, Miss Dalton, to witness a fight?” “Yes,” said Edith, calmly. “If I had my pistols,” said Dudleigh, thoughtfully, “I might--But as it is, if they, see you accompanying me, they will assemble in force.” “Yes,” said Edith, sadly, for she began to see difficulties. “Now do you think that if you are with me the porter will open the gates?” “He will not.” “Well, we must get out in some other way. Can you climb the wall? I might climb and help you over.” “Yes, but they would follow and prevent us.” Dudleigh looked at the floor. Then he put his small gloved hand on his forehead, and appeared for a few moments to be lost in thought. “Miss Dalton,” said he at last, “I am at your service. Can you tell me what I can do?--for to save my life I can think of nothing just now. Give me my orders.” Edith looked perplexed. She knew that this man could not force his way unarmed through the gates. She did not feel inclined just yet to tell him to arm himself and shoot any one dead who opposed him. She could not bear to think of that. But here was Dudleigh, ready. “Have you any fire-arms in the house?” he asked. “No,” said Edith, “and, besides, I can not bear just yet to cause any thing like bloodshed.” “If not, then you can not get free at once. Can you wait one day, or two days?” “One or two days!” said Edith. “Oh yes; one or two weeks, or even months. Only let me hope, and I can wait.” “You have this to comfort you, at any rate,” said Dudleigh, “that outside the gates you have a friend. And now I will not intrude any longer. I must go. But if you will allow me I will come back to-morrow. Meanwhile I will try to think over what is best to be done.” “You will promise,” said Edith, imploringly, “not to desert me?” “Desert you? Never! On the honor of a gentleman!” cried Dudleigh; and as he bowed his head there came over his face a very singular smile, which Edith, however, did not see. He then took his leave. * * * * * CHAPTER XX. FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH Edith slept but little that night. The prospect of escape agitated her whole being, and the new friend who had so unexpectedly appeared took up all her thoughts.