friendly hand as she bade her sleep well and not be frightened. The inhabitants of this primitive village appeared all to retire to rest as soon as darkness came on, so that Helene had enjoyed a long, dreamless sleep when a furious knocking at the outer door aroused the household, although dawn was only just breaking. The postmaster was disinclined to rise, thinking that some impatient neighbour had come early to inquire for a letter, and that the labours of the department would be appreciably increased if such proceedings were to be allowed. But the knocking continued, and a voice shouted something threatening in an unknown tongue, which was emphasised by vigorous kicks at the door, and the postmaster’s wife suddenly shrieked a malediction at him. “Fool! pig!” she screamed. “Can’t you hear? It is the little white lady’s husband. Let him in this minute.” The postmaster obeyed, not forgetting to don his beltful of weapons before he opened the door; and it was with a huge revolver in his hand that he confronted the young man who entered with a hasty step, but recoiled abruptly when he met the intent gaze of the rest of the family, peering at him over their sheepskin coverlids. “Where is my wife?” he demanded, holding out a telegram to the postmaster, then began a hasty apology; but the postmaster saw no need for shyness. Striding to the door of the office, he threw it open, and bowing to Usk, invited him to enter, while the wife and children sat up in bed, their eyes bright with interest. A moment later, when Usk was sitting on the bench beside Helene, holding her in his arms, and alternately kissing and scolding her, while she laughed and cried at once, a murmur of excited admiration drew their attention to the door, where they beheld the whole family gazing at them open-mouthed. “Oh, shut the door!” cried Helene hysterically. “The whole village will be here in a moment, as they were last night. Oh, Nym, how white you look!” “Considering that we have been riding all night, you can scarcely expect us to look very blooming. I think you’ve hurried us here on false pretences, Nell. We couldn’t make head or tail of your telegram, but we gathered that you were in dire distress, so Hicks and I, with the landlord and Jakob, mounted and rode to your rescue at once, with William driving the buggy. We had an awful time of it in the dark, but we kept on; and now I find you comfortably asleep, and able to criticise our looks. Do you think that shows proper gratitude, Lady Usk?” “You mustn’t criticise mine,” laughed Helene unsteadily, as she stood up with difficulty, a forlorn little figure with tumbled hair and dark-ringed eyes. “Oh, it was so dreadful, Nym! They nearly made me give them my wedding-ring to pay for the telegram. But they were very kind afterwards, and it’s all right now.”