“I'm afraid,” said she--“I'm afraid that something's happened to Leon.” “To Leon!” exclaimed Wiggins, impatiently; “what could happen to him! I told him to quit this place, and he has probably concluded to do so.” “But what do you think of his flight at the same time with Edith?” “I don't know what to think of it. I only know this, that if he has harmed one hair of her head, I--I'll--kill him! My own injuries I will forgive, but wrongs done to her I will avenge!” At this Mrs. Dunbar shrank away, and looked at Wiggins in fear. “But it may be all the other way,” said she, in a tremulous voice. “Edith was terrible in her fury. She was no timid, faltering girl; she was resolute and vindictive. If he has followed her, or laid hands on her, she may have--” She hesitated. “May have what?” asked Wiggins. “She may have done him some harm.” “_She_ may have done _him_ some harm!” repeated Wiggins, with a sneer. “What! and when he had his big dog to protect him? Pooh!” And with a scornful laugh he turned away. Mrs. Dunbar followed him. “She was so terrible in her despair,” said she, as she followed him; “she looked like a fury--beautiful, yet implacable.” “Silence!” cried Wiggins. “Stop all that nonsense, or you'll drive me mad. Are you crazy? When I am almost broken-hearted in my anxiety about her, what do you mean by turning against that wronged and injured girl, who I now see has been driven to despair by my own cursed mistakes, and pretending that she is the aggressor, and your scoundrel Leon the victim?” In the midst of this Wiggins was interrupted by the approach of Hugo. “A genl'man, Sah, wants to see you, Sah,” said he. “A gentleman,” repeated Wiggins. “Who is he? How did he come here?” “Dunno, Sah, nuffin 'bout dat, Sah.” “It's about Edith!” exclaimed Wiggins; and he hurried into the house. * * * * * CHAPTER XXXVI. THE VICAR OF DALTON. Wiggins entered the drawing-room, and found his visitor there. He was a slight man, with light hair, watery gray eyes, and very mild demeanor. The timidity of the man seemed very marked; there was an apologetic air about him; and his very footfall as he advanced to greet Wiggins seemed to deprecate some anticipated rough treatment. He spoke a few words, and at Wiggins's request to be seated he sat down, while his agitation increased; and he had that hesitating, half-abstracted manner which marks the man who is on the point of giving unpleasant information, about the effect of which he is doubtful. Wiggins, on his part, did not seem to notice this. He sat down, and looked with earnest inquiry at his visitor. He seemed to know what was the object of this visit, and yet to dread to ask it. The visitor had given his name as the Rev. Mr. Munn, and Wiggins recognized that name as belonging to the parish vicar. That name excited strange emotions within him, for it was the same name that had appeared in the papers in connection with Edith's marriage.