"Oh, yes, but you've nothing to do. There, I'll think about Ben Hayle and his getting a place, but I don't want you to be far away, Judy.-- Now, don't be absurd.--What are you struggling about?--Hang the girl, it's like trying to hold a deer. Judy! You're not gone. Come here. I can see you by that tree." There was a distant rustling, and Captain Rolph uttered an oath. "Why, she has gone!" It was quite true. Judith was running fast in the direction of the cottages miles away in the wild common land of Lindham, and Rolph turned upon his heel and strode back toward Brackley. "Time I had one of the old man's brandy-and-sodas," he growled. "Better have stopped and talked to my saint. Ben Hayle going back to poaching! Threaten me with mischief if I don't marry her! I wish he would take to it again." Rolph walked on faster, getting excited by his thoughts, and, after hurrying along for a few hundred yards, he said aloud,-- "And get caught." "Now for a run," he added, a minute later. "This has been a pleasant evening and no mistake. Ah, well, all comes right in the end." Volume 2, Chapter III. A SEARCH. About a couple of hours earlier there was a ring at the gaunt-looking gate at the Firs, and that ring caused Mrs Alleyne's Eliza to start as if galvanised, and to draw her feet sharply over the sanded floor, and beneath her chair. Otherwise Eliza did not move. She had been darning black stockings, and as her feet went under her chair, she sat there with the light--a yellow and dim tallow dip, set up in a great tin candlestick--staring before her, lips and eyes wide open, one hand and arm covered with a black worsted stocking, the fingers belonging to the other arm holding up a stocking needle, motionless, as if she were so much stone. Anon, the bell, which hid in a little pent-house of its own high up on the ivied wall, jangled again, and a shock of terror ran through Eliza's body once more, but only for her to relapse into the former cataleptic state. Then came a third brazen clanging; and this time the kitchen door opened, and Eliza uttered a squeal. "Why, Eliza," cried Lucy, "were you asleep? The gate bell has rung three times. Go and see who it is." "Oh, please, miss, I dursn't," said Eliza with a shiver. "Oh, how can you be so foolish!" cried Lucy. "There, bring the light, and I'll come with you." "There--there was a poor girl murdered once, miss," stammered Eliza, "at a gate. Please, miss, I dursn't go." "Then I must go myself," cried Lucy. "Don't be so silly. Mamma will be dreadfully cross if you don't come." Eliza seemed to think that it would be better to risk being murdered at the gate than encounter Mrs Alleyne's anger, so she started up, caught at the tin candlestick with trembling hand, and then unbolted the kitchen door loudly, just as the bell was about to be pulled for the fourth time. "You speak, please, miss," whispered the girl. "I dursn't. Pray say something before you open the gate."