"I am; but what else can I do, unless I run away?" I asked. "That is it; and who is to prevent? I thought though that your Uncle Job had told you about his plans?" "No; but will you help me?" I asked, excited at the prospect of thus escaping my aunt. "Yes; and it is for that partly that I am here. So climb up and I will smuggle you into town, and once there, hide you where even your Aunt Jane’s bright eyes can never find you. Afterward, if we need talk about that now, you are to go away with your Uncle Job." The hope thus held out so unexpectedly filled me with a happiness I cannot describe, but still I did not move, so greatly was I stirred by what he said. "We have planned to do this from the start, Gilbert," Mr. Seymour went on, seeing me hesitate. "There was no other way, you must know, for your aunt would have fought us through all the courts in the state if we had openly defied her. So be quick if you like the plan, and we will be off before it is too late." I did like the plan, and so climbed into the wagon without further loss of time. When we had gone some little way on the road, seeing Aunt Jane coming toward us, Mr. Seymour pushed me down into the bed of the wagon, drawing the blanket tightly above my head. In a moment, however, and as if in comfort of my seclusion, Constance’s hand crept beneath the robe, and feeling about, rested at last warm and loving against my cheek. Pressing it to my lips, I was content, nor wished, if I could, to stir from where I knelt. "Now, Gilbert, hold your breath, for here is your loving aunt," Mr. Seymour exclaimed a moment afterward, pulling up his horses. "Good evening, Miss Holmes," he spoke up, politely, as she stopped beside our wagon; "I hope you are quite well and that nothing has occurred to mar the happiness of your life." "Thank you, I am very well," my aunt answered, but as if not desiring to prolong the interview. "I have just been over to Wild Plum after Constance, who has been spending the day with your nephew," he went on. "A wild lad that, Miss Holmes." "Indeed, it was very kind of Constance," my aunt answered, but not as if at all pleased with his familiarity. "I suppose you are on your way to get the young scape-grace. He told us you thought to come after him," Mr. Seymour continued, appearing not to notice her manner. "Yes, I am on my way to bring my nephew home," she answered, coldly. "Well, I hope you will find him all you desire, but I fear he will not be much comfort to you." "I know of no reason why you should speak in that way," she replied, with some heat. "Perhaps, madam; but take my advice, and look well to him, for if I ever saw a roving vagabond he is one. There, there, Constance, keep still, will you? The lad’s slippery, Miss Holmes, slippery, and upon my soul I believe he had it in his mind to decamp when we came away. I never saw anything stamped in a lad’s face more plainly," Mr. Seymour answered, soberly.