At that dread hour, Captain Lake, about a mile on the Dollington, which was the old London road from Gylingden, was pacing backward and forward under the towering files of beech that overarch it at that point. The 'White House' public, with a wide panel over its door, presenting, in tints subdued by time, a stage-coach and four horses in mid career, lay a few hundred yards nearer to Gylingden. Not a soul was stirring--not a sound but those, sad and soothing, of nature was to be heard. Stanley Lake did not like waiting any more than did Louis XIV. He was really a little tired of acting sentry, and was very peevish by the time the ring of wheels and horse-hoofs approaching from the London direction became audible. Even so, he had a longer wait than he expected, sounds are heard so far by night. At last, however, it drew nearer--nearer--quite close--and a sort of nondescript vehicle--one horsed--loomed in the dark, and he calls-- 'Hallo! there--I say--a passenger for the "White House?"' At the same moment, a window of the cab--shall we call it--was let down, and a female voice--Rachel Lake's--called to the driver to stop. Lake addressed the driver-- 'You come from Johnson's Hotel--don't you--at Dollington?' 'Yes, Sir.' 'Well, I'll pay you half-fare to bring me there.' 'All right, Sir. But the 'oss, Sir, must 'av 'is oats fust.' 'Feed him here, then. They are all asleep in the "White House." I'll be with you in five minutes, and you shall have something for yourself when we get into Dollington.' Stanley opened the door. She placed her hand on his, and stepped to the ground. It was very dark under those great trees. He held her hand a little harder than was his wont. 'All quite well, ever since. You are not very tired, are you? I'm afraid it will be necessary for you to walk to "Redman's Farm," dear Radie--but it is hardly a mile, I think--for, you see, the fellow must not know who you are; and I must go back with him, for I have not been very well--indeed I've been, I may say, very ill--and I told that fellow, Larkin, who has his eyes about him, and would wonder what kept me out so late, that I would run down to some of the places near for a change, and sleep a night there; and that's the reason, dear Radie, I can walk only a short way with you; but you are not afraid to walk a part of the way home without me? You are so sensible, and you have been, really, so very kind, I assure you I appreciate it, Radie--I do, indeed; and I'm very grateful--I am, upon my word.' Rachel answered with a heavy sigh. CHAPTER XXIII. HOW RACHEL SLEPT THAT NIGHT IN REDMAN'S FARM. 'Allow me--pray do,' and he took her little bag from her hand. 'I hope you are not very tired, darling; you've been so very good; and you're not afraid--you know the place is so quiet--of the little walk by yourself. Take my arm; I'll go as far as I can, but it is very late you know--and you are sure you are not afraid?'