“I guess not,” I answered. “He'll be here soon, I am sure.” But he did not come. The storm seemed to be passing over. The flashes were just as frequent, but there was a longer interval between each flash and its thunder peal. The rain was still a steady downpour. Miss Colton was plainly growing more anxious. “Where can he be?” she murmured. “Don't be frightened,” I urged. “He is all right. I'll go and look him up, if you don't mind being left alone.” “Can't--can't we go together?” “We could, of course, but there is no use in your getting wetter than you are. If you are willing to stay here I will run up the road and see if I can find him.” “Thank you. But you will get wet yourself.” “Oh, I am wet already. Take the umbrella. I'll be back in a minute.” I pressed the handle of the umbrella into her hand--it was as steady as mine--and darted out into the flood. I think she called me to come back, but I did not obey. I ran up the road until I was some distance beyond the point where I had stopped the runaway, but there were no signs of horse, carriage or coachman. I called repeatedly, but got no reply. Then, reluctantly, I gave it up and returned to the porch. She gave a little gasp of relief when I reached her side. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “did you find him?” “No,” I answered. “He seems to have gone on. He cannot have gone far. It is only a little way to the Corners.” “Is--isn't there a house, a house with people living in it, near this place?” “No nearer than your house, Miss Colton. We seem to have chosen the most forsaken spot in Denboro to be cast away in. I am very sorry.” “I am not frightened for myself. But I know my father and mother will be alarmed if I don't come soon. I am sure Caesar must have run away again, and I am afraid Jenkins must be hurt.” I had thought of that, too. Only an accident could explain the coachman's non-appearance or, at least, his not sending help to his mistress. “If you are really not afraid to remain here, Miss Colton,” I said, “I will go to your house myself.” “Oh no! Some one will come soon. I can't understand where Victor--Mr. Carver--can be. He was to have joined me at the church.” I did not answer. Knowing Mr. Carver's associates and the errand upon which he had gone, I imagined I could guess the cause of his delay. But I did not speak my guess. “The storm is not as severe just now,” I said. “I can get to your house in a little while, if you are willing I should leave you.” She put her hand on my arm. “Come,” she said. “Shall we start now?” “But you must not go. You couldn't get there on foot, such a night as this.” “Yes, I can. I mean to. Please come.” I still hesitated. She took her hand from my arm and stepped out into the rain. “Are you coming?” she said.