At that moment two interruptions occurred simultaneously. From the door of the King’s Arms emerged the landlord, and began making vehement signals to Luke; while from the corner of the road to Nevilton appeared the figures of two young ladies, walking briskly towards them, absorbed in earnest conversation. These simultaneous events were observed in varying ratio by the captive and her captor. Luke was vaguely conscious of the two ladies and profoundly agitated by the appearance of the landlord. Phyllis was vaguely conscious of the landlord and was profoundly agitated by the appearance of the ladies. The young stone-carver gave a quick thoughtless jerk to the bar; and without waiting to see the result, rushed off towards the inn. The heavy block of wood, impelled by the impetus he had given it, swung upwards, until it almost reached the perpendicular. Then it descended with a crash. The girl had just time to withdraw one of her ankles. The other was imprisoned as hopeless as before. Phyllis was overwhelmed with shame and embarrassment. She had in a moment recognized Gladys, and she felt as those Apocalyptic unfortunates in Holy Scripture are reported as feeling when they call upon the hills to cover them. It had happened that Ralph Dangelis had been compelled to pay a flying visit to London on business connected with his proposed marriage. The two cousins, preoccupied, each of them, with their separate anxieties, had wandered thus far from home to escape the teasing fussiness of Mrs. Romer, who with her preparations for the double wedding gave neither of them any peace. They approached quite near to the group of elms before either of them observed the unfortunate Phyllis. “Why!” cried Gladys suddenly to her companion. “There’s somebody in the stocks!” She went forward hastily, followed at a slower pace by the Italian. Poor Phyllis, her bundle by her side, and her cheeks tear-stained, presented a woeful enough appearance. Her first inclination was to hide her face in her hands; but making a brave effort, she turned her head towards the new-comers with a gasping little laugh. “I put my foot in here for a joke,” she stammered, “and it got caught. Please let me out, Miss Romer.” Gladys came quite near and laid her gloved hand upon the wooden bar. “It just lifts up, Miss,” pleaded Phyllis, with tears in her voice. “It isn’t at all heavy.” Gladys stared at her with a growing sense of interest. The girl’s embarrassment under her scrutiny awoke her Romer malice. “I really don’t know that I want to let you out in such a hurry,” she said. “If it’s a game you are playing, it would be a pity to spoil it. Who put you in? You must tell me that, before I set you free! You couldn’t have done it yourself.” By this time Lacrima had arrived on the scene. The shame-faced Phyllis turned to her. “Please, Miss Traffio, please, lift that thing up! It’s quite easy to move.”