Dinah Gurdon, Major Gurdon's only child, paying no heed to her follower's words, kept hurrying on, for she had nearly reached the ragged entrance to the mine gap, feeling that at last she would be free, and then the insolent, self-satisfied ruffian would not dare to pursue her farther, for he had said that this was the place he had in charge. But if he did, another quarter of a mile would take her round the great limestone buttress formed by the mine spoil; and then she would be on the south slope of the Tor, in full view of the narrow valley, up out of which her father would probably be coming, and he would see her, as he came to meet her, a mile away. She had kept to her steady, quick walk as long as she could; but now the exultation produced by the sight of freedom reassured her, and unable to control herself, she started off running past the natural gateway in the rocky wall on her right. But Michael Sturgess was too quick for her. "No, you don't, my pretty one," he cried, as he dashed in pursuit, overtook her in a few yards, and caught her by the dress, which tore loudly in his hand. The next moment he had his arm round her waist, but she struck at him wildly as he now held her and blocked her way. There was a momentary struggle, and she was free once more. She turned as if about to leap down the steep slope at her side; but the attempt was too desperate, and she ran back a few yards, with the man close behind, and then turned again and dashed frantically between the two natural buttresses, down the steep path leading to the mazes and gloomy passages of the ancient mine. Michael Sturgess stopped short for a moment, burst into a coarse laugh, and gave his leg a slap. "I knowed it," he cried. "Oh, these girls, these girls!" The next minute he was in full pursuit, and ten minutes later, faint, wild, and echoing up the walls of the shadowy solitude, there was a piercing cry. A great bird rose slowly, circling higher about the dismal gap, and then all was still. CHAPTER FOUR. JESSOP'S WEAKNESS. "I don't care. I will speak, and if master gets to know, so much the better." "Will you hold your silly tongue?" "No, I won't. I've held it too long. It's disgraceful, that's what it is, and I'll tell Mr Clive of your goings-on with his sweetheart." "Look here, Lyddy, do you want me to poison you, or take you out somewhere and push you into a river?" "Yes," cried the girl addressed, passionately. "I wish you would, and then there'd be an end of the misery and wretchedness. And as for that Miss Janet Praed--" "Hold your tongue, you silly, jealous little fool!"