The squire raised his arm high above his head, while his long, bony fingers firmly clutched the handle of the dagger. For a moment it quivered in the air, then it descended toward his foe with full force. But it missed its destination, for his arm was fiercely arrested in its downward motion, and with a howl of baffled rage the squire turned to see who had cheated him of his long wished for revenge. He met the stern face and flashing eyes of his nephew. He was pale as the dead, and he shook with the excitement of the dreadful moment; but his hold upon his uncle was like the grip of a vise, and the murderous wretch could no more move his arm under it than if he had been an infant. Ralph pulled him roughly from his intended victim, and said, hoarsely: “I told you that you should not do this thing.” “Curse you, I will!” he shrieked, frantically striving to free himself. “He shall not live—I will have his black heart to pay me for what I have suffered! Let me go, you young dog. Oh, it was treacherous in you to cheat me so, when my triumph was so near. Help! help!—I will be free!” The baffled wretch writhed and twisted in the iron grasp that held him. His eyes grew blood-shot, his face became of a purple hue, while flecks of foam flew from his mouth. Gaining renewed courage from his almost miraculous deliverance, Mr. Ellerton struck his foe a powerful blow, which felled him to the floor, and sent the fatal dagger flying to the farthest corner of the room. “Now,” said Ralph, “if you have a cord anywhere, we will bind this dangerous gentleman until he recovers his senses; it will not do to let him run at large.” Mr. Ellerton picked up the weapon that had so nearly put an end to his existence, and, quickly stepping to the stout bell-rope, severed it with a single blow; then together they firmly bound the squire’s arms behind him, wholly unmindful of his curses and shrieks. When this was accomplished Mr. Ellerton turned to Ralph, and said gratefully: “Young man, I know not who you are, whether friend or foe; but you have saved my life, and for this I am inexpressibly thankful.” “I ask no thanks; I have simply done my duty,” replied Ralph, quietly and coldly, though he gazed searchingly in the other’s face. Then, after a moment, he added, while the hot blood rushed over his features, “Perhaps it is right that you should know who I am. My name is Ralph Moulton Ellerton.” “You!” he gasped, staggering back as if some one had struck him. “Yes, sir; and, of course, with your blood flowing in my veins, I could not see him do this thing,” returned the young man. “Ah, my friend, I know what you think, and I assure you you have been grossly deceived about your history, and are not so much to be blamed for the part you have taken against me and mine.” “What! do you mean still to deny our relationship?” asked Ralph, an indignant sparkle replacing the former cold glitter of his eye.