"What shall you do, you silly little thing!" cried Richard, whose promises were all forgotten, and he clasped Daisy more tightly; "why, behave like a sensible girl. Why, Daisy, I have not kissed you for weeks, and so must make up for lost time." "If you do not loose me, Mr Richard, I shall scream for help," cried the girl, now growing frightened. "And who's to hear you if you do?" he said, mockingly. "Those who are coming to destroy your works," exclaimed Daisy, now fully roused to the peril of her position. "Let them come!" cried Richard, as he held her more tightly; "when they do," he added, with a laugh, "I'll let you go." He was drawing Daisy's face round to his in spite of her struggles, when, in an instant, she ceased to fight against him, as she exclaimed in a low, awe-stricken whisper--"Hush! what was that?" Richard loosed his hold on the instant, and stood listening. "Nothing but a trick of yours, Miss Daisy," he cried, catching her arm as she was gliding from him into the darkness. "Hush! there it is again," whispered the girl. "I heard it plainly. Pray, pray, let us go." "No one can have got in here," muttered Richard, turning pale, for this time he had distinctly heard some sound from below. "Here, wait a moment, and I'll go and see." "No, no," faltered Daisy. "Not alone; and you must not leave me. There is danger--there is, indeed, Mr Richard." "Give me your hand, then," he whispered. "Curse the place; it's dark enough by night to frighten any one. Mind how you come." Daisy clung convulsively to his hand and arm, as they descended to the second floor, where all seemed to be still, not a sound reaching their ears; and from thence to the first floor, where all was as they had left it. Here Richard paused for a few moments, but could hear nothing but the beating of their own hearts, for now he, too, was horribly alarmed. "It's nothing," he said at last. "Daisy, you've been inventing this to make me let you go." Daisy made no reply, for the horror of some impending evil seemed to be upon her, and with her lips parched, and tongue dry, she could not even utter a word; but clung to him, and tried to urge him away. "Come along, then, into the counting-house," he said, infected now by the girl's manifest fears. "Mind how you come; the steps are worn. Take care." But for his arm Daisy would probably have fallen, but he aided her, and she reached the floor in safety. "Stop a moment, silly child," he said, "and I'll light a match, just to look round and show you that you are frightened at nothing." "No, no," gasped Daisy. "Quick, quick, the door." "Well, then, little one, just to prevent our breaking our necks over this cursed machinery." "No, no," moaned Daisy. "I know the way. Here, quick."