At this, Master Ronald, who stood on the further side of the Governor’s chair, coughed. She glanced up and saw he had put his finger to his lips to enjoin silence. Frightened, she stopped short. During the pause, the Governor drew out a gold snuff-box and took a pinch of snuff. Then he flicked the powder, which had drifted on his velvet coat, off daintily with his kerchief. “Well,” said he, “have you lost your tongue?” “My dear friend, Deliverance,” repeated Abigail. “In other words,” broke in Master Ronald, his tone sharp with anxiety, “she desires to ask your Excellency if you know the whereabouts of any person answering this description.” And briefly he described the stranger whom Deliverance had met in the forest. At these words the Governor’s expression mellowed slightly and he smiled. “Then you have no favour to ask of me,” he said. “I think I know the person of whom you speak.” He rose. “I will find out if you may see him.” As he crossed the hall, he glanced out of the entrance-door which had been left half-closed. Abigail’s eyes, following the direction of his, beheld the students perched in a row on the front fence. His Excellency turned, bestowing a grim look on Master Ronald. “What scarecrows are those on my fence?” he asked. “I doubt not I could make better use of them in my corn-fields.” And with an audible sniff he opened the door on his right and entered the room beyond. “The Lord in his infinite justice is on our side,” spoke Master Ronald, solemnly, as the door closed behind the Governor. “Praise be unto Him from whom cometh all mercy.” He took a couple of long steps which brought him to Abigail’s side. “Say no word of witchery to his Excellency,” he whispered sternly, “lest you spoil all by a false move. Mind what I say, for he is carried away by fanaticism, and in his zeal to clear the land of witches makes no provision to spare the innocent. Hush!” He drew quickly away as steps were heard in the next room. He clasped his hands behind him and commenced pacing the floor, humming in apparent unconcern:— “Full fathoms five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell”— Abigail fairly quaked in her shoes. Another moment, and the door through which the Governor had passed was opened by the old Moor. He beckoned them to enter. They found themselves in a spacious apartment, the state bed-chamber of the house. Standing well out in the centre of the room was a great four-poster bed, with a crimson canopy. The curtains were drawn back, revealing a man lying dressed on the bed, propped up by pillows. The Governor sat beside him. He nodded to the two young people. “Is not this the gentleman you seek?” he asked, with a wave of his hand toward the occupant of the bed.