"The load is lighter, Claire," he said softly. "No, you are not my judge. If you were you would not condemn me unheard, and I cannot--dare not speak." He led her towards the door, and stood watching her as she passed upstairs and out of sight, turning her face to him once before she closed the door. "The sweet pure angel and good genius of my home," he said softly, with bent head, and with a calmer, more restful look in his countenance he went slowly to his own room. All was soon dark and silent in the house so lately busy with the noise and buzz of many guests. Five minutes had not elapsed when the door was softly pushed open, and a slight little figure entered, and crossed to the window. The noise made was very slight, as the swinging bar across the shutters was lifted and lowered, one of the shutters folded back, the fastening raised, and the window pushed ajar. The figure stood in the semi-darkness in the attitude of one listening, and then drew back with a peculiar sigh as of one drawing in breath. A couple of minutes passed, and then there was a scraping, rustling noise outside, the semi-darkness was deepened by a figure in the balcony, the window was drawn outwards, and a man passed in, whispering: "May--sweet--are you there?" A faintly uttered sigh was the response, and quick as thought the French window was closed, a step or two taken into the silent drawing-room, and May Burnett was tightly clasped in the arms of the nocturnal intruder. "My darling!" "No, no. Now one word, and you must go," she whispered quickly. "I have done as I promised; now keep your word--to stay only one minute-- say one word and go." "And I will keep it," he cried, "my beautiful little love, my-- Damnation!" May started from his arms, for at that moment there was a thundering knock at the front door, and a violent drag at the bell. Volume Two, Chapter XVI. FOR HER SISTER'S SAKE. "Oh, go--go quickly," cried May excitedly. "It is my husband come back; what shall I do?" "Stop!" cried Sir Harry. "Listen!" "No, no; they are knocking again. My father will hear." "But--" "No, no, you must not stay. Go," she panted, and as she spoke, in her hurry and alarm, she pushed him towards the window. "Confound it all!" he muttered, as he opened it softly. "Pray, pray be quick," she cried. "Oh, do--do go." "Impossible!" he whispered back. "They would see. Hide me." "I can't--I can't." "You must. Somewhere here." "No, no! You must go. Oh, what shall I do? I am lost--undone." "Hush, little woman! Be calm," he said in a hoarse whisper. "I don't know much about this house. Here, I will go downstairs." "But you cannot; the footman will see you." "Then, curse it all, hide me upstairs," cried Sir Harry impatiently. "My father--my sister--what shall I do!--Oh!" That was all the visitor heard, and the faint cry that ended the sentence was drowned in a second tremendous peal at knocker and bell.