Was she too soon? Surely not. There stood a cab, drawn close to the curbstone, and there, in the shadow of the cab, stood a tall man in a cloak, evidently waiting. The lamps of the carriage shone upon him, but the cloak collar was so turned up, the slouched hat so pulled down, such a quantity of dark beard between, that nothing was visible of the face whatever. Mollie paused, altogether exhausted; the man advanced a step out of the shadow. "White Mask?" he asked, in a cautious whisper. "Black Mask!" responded Mollie, promptly. "All right, then!" replied the man, speaking in French, and speaking rapidly. "It's impossible to stand here in the rain and talk. I have brought a carriage--let me assist you in." But Mollie shrunk back. Some nameless thrill of terror suddenly made her dread the man. "You must--you must!" cried the man, in an impetuous whisper. "We can not stand here in this down-pour. Don't you see it is impossible? And the first policeman who comes along will be walking us off to the station-house." He caught her arm and half led her to the carriage. Shrinking instinctively, yet hardly knowing what to do, she found herself in it, and seated, before she quite knew it. He sprung after her, closed the door, the carriage started at once at a great pace, and the poor little fly was fairly caught in the spider's web. "I don't like this," said Mollie, decisively. "I had no idea of entering a carriage when I appointed this meeting. Where are you taking me to?" "There is no need to be alarmed, pretty Mollie," said the man, still speaking French. "I have given the coachman orders to rattle along through the streets. We can talk here at our leisure, and as long as we please. You must perceive the utter impossibility of conversation at a street corner and in a down-pour of rain." Mollie did, but she fidgeted in her seat, and felt particularly uncomfortable, all the same. Now that it was too late, she began to think she had acted unwisely in appointing this meeting. "Why didn't I let well enough alone?" thought the young lady. "At a distance, it seemed the easiest thing in the world; now that I am in the man's power, I am afraid of him, more so than I ever was before." The man had taken his seat beside her. At this juncture he put his arm around her waist. "Why can't we be comfortable and affectionate, as man and wife should--eh, Mollie? You don't know how much obliged to you I am for this interview." There was a ring of triumph in his tone that Mollie could not fail to perceive. Her heart gave a great jump of terror, but she angrily flung herself out of his arm. "Keep your distance, sir! How dare you? You sing quite a new song since I saw you last! Don't you lay a finger on me, or I'll--" "What, pretty Cricket?" with a sardonic laugh. Mollie caught her breath. That name, that tone--both were altogether new in the unknown man.