"Ssh!" Annesley whispered. "We mustn't wake Mrs. Ellsworth, or she'll run to the front door in her dressing gown and call 'Police!' She's old, but her ears are sharp as a cat's. She can almost hear one _thinking_. But I'm glad she can't quite. How frightful if she could!" "Nothing about her need be frightful to you any more," said the man. "You have saved me. Soon it will be my turn to rescue you." "I haven't saved you yet," the girl reminded him. "_They_ are sure to be waiting to see whether you come out. But I've thought of one more thing to make them believe that you live here. I can steal softly upstairs to the front room on the second floor, above the drawing room--the one we call 'Mr. Smith's'--to turn on the lights, and then those hateful creatures will think----". She hesitated, and the colour sprang to her cheeks. "That Mr. and Mrs. Nelson Smith have gone to their room," the man finished her sentence. His eyes beamed love and gratitude, a glorious reward. "You're wonderful! You forget nothing that can help. Do you know, your trust, your faith in me, in spite of appearances, are the best things that have come into my life? You call those fellows 'hateful creatures,' because they're my enemies. Yet, for all you know, _they_ may be injured innocents and I the 'hateful' one. This may be my way of getting into a rich old woman's house to steal her jewels and money--making you a cat's paw." "Don't!" Annesley cut him short. "I can't bear to hear you say such things. I trust you because--surely a woman can tell by instinct which men to trust. I don't need proof." "By Jove!" he exclaimed, his eyes fixed upon her face. "You are the kind of girl whose faith could turn Lucifer back from devil into archangel. I--you're a million times too good for me. I didn't even _want_ to meet a white saint like you. But now I have met you, nothing on earth is going to make me give you up, if you'll stand by me. I'm unworthy, and I don't expect to be much better. But there's one thing: I can give you a gayer life than here. Perhaps I can even make you happy, if you don't ask for a saint to match yourself. You shall have my love and worship, and I'll be true as steel----" "Oh, listen!" Annesley broke in. "Don't you hear a sound?" "Yes," he said. "A door creaked somewhere." "Mrs. Ellsworth's bedroom door. What shall we do? There's just the short passage at the back, and then she'll be at the baize door that opens into the front corridor. Quick! You, not I, must go upstairs--to that second-floor front room I spoke of. Hurry! Before she gets to the swing door----"