“It means this, Miss Harmer, that the village has been set upon by that desperate gang called the Skeleton Crew, and that they are intent upon murdering all who oppose them. Fly! I beg of you, do not delay a single instant, or all may be lost!” “Sir!” cried Ellen, half aloud, distrustful of her own senses, and yet knowing not whether to believe or disbelieve the colonel’s words. “Nay, stop not to parley, dear Ellen,” said Blood, taking her by the hand; “there is not a single moment to be lost in explanation. Feel satisfied that what I say is true. Your father has sent me; he begged of me to conduct you to a place of safety until such times as the horrible Skeleton Band should have departed again.” “Sir, all this may be true, but how am I to know it for a certainty?” “Nay; do not hesitate: Your very life may depend upon it.” “And my honour also, sir,” said Ellen, with a proud look. “Honour to me is dearer than life.” “Great Patience!” said Blood, in a petulant manner. “Would you not save your father’s life?” “My father’s life?” said Ellen, suddenly changing colour. “Is he in danger, then?” “He is. He is now in the power of the Skeleton Crew, and if you are found here five minutes longer you will surely be dragged off a captive by Death-wing, their chief.” “Whither, then, would you lead me?” “To Darlington Hall. Sir Richard and his servants are out and armed against this famous band. It is by old Sir Richard’s desire, coupled with your father’s, that I now come here.” “Then you are known to Sir Richard?” “Yes, fair one. I am a nephew of his. I have used deception with you up to the present; but the time is now past for all that. I am Sir Richard’s nephew. Come, fly with me to the Hall, ’tis the only place of safety. Remember the dreadful scenes which have been enacted round the coast by this horrible band, and flee on the instant.” Ellen seemed stupefied by all she heard, and mechanically threw a light wrapper round her shoulders. In a few moments she left her father’s house, misled and deceived by the oily tongue of as great and fearless a scoundrel as ever lived. “This way!—this way!” said Blood, blandly. “Haste, fair one, haste!” He placed a rough, strong arm round the maiden’s waist, and helped her along. “This way is the nearest,” he said, with a grim smile of satisfaction, as they both hurriedly approached the mill bridge. When they were about to cross, several of the planks being old, loose, and rotten, began to creak ominously, and the winds sighed dolefully. Ellen stopped for a moment. Her eyes enlarged to twice their ordinary size. She saw something on the bridge that startled her. “What is that?” she said, half-gasping, pointing to something on the planks which looked red. “Oh! nothing, nothing, fair one,” said Blood, grimly smiling. “But it _is_ something,” said Ellen, turning pale, and gazing intently. “Look! see here—and here—and here—they are large clots of gore!” “Impossible!” said Blood, coolly.