She would go away--poor, desolate Molly--and she, Florine would be spared the taking of human life. “Madame, let me go with you and care for you,” she said, curious to know where she would go. But Molly shook her head. “No, no, Florine; I shall go alone,” she said, hopelessly; but the maid said to herself: “I shall be sure to find you out, any way, for I want to keep track of you.” She saw Molly looking at the pretty clock on the mantel, and thought, exultantly: “She will go tonight, and tomorrow Miss Barry shall pay me the money, for this is just as good as if I had killed her,” she decided. “You may go now, Florine; it is past my usual bed-time, but I shall sit up awhile,” said Molly. The maid withdrew with a respectful good-night. She knew well that she had been dismissed because her young mistress desired to make secret preparations for flight. She was right in her conjecture, for in less than half an hour the despairing wife stole away from The Acacias and took her solitary way through the London streets in the moonless darkness of the summer night. CHAPTER XL. Molly had determined to go to the Truehearts, tell them her whole sad history, and ask them to love her for her father’s sake. “They can not turn me away, they are too fond of me already,” she said, hopefully to herself. “If they will only hide me from my enemies I shall love them and be grateful to them forever.” She had begun to look on Cecil as her enemy now, as one who wished for her death that he might marry his new love. “But they shall not kill me. I shall die soon enough of my broken heart anyhow,” she said sadly. She would not take a cab, weak as she was, for she wanted to make it impossible for any one to trace her, so she walked wearily and slowly along over the full mile that intervened between The Acacias and the elegant mansion of the Truehearts. For a wonder no rough or rowdy molested the small, veiled female figure as it plodded along. Perhaps it was because every one but Molly herself saw that she was guarded by another woman who kept just a little behind the other and always in the shadow. It was Florine Dabol, bent on finding out all about the mysterious friends at whom Molly had vaguely hinted. “It may be worth my while to know where she is all the time when they are hunting her high and low!” she cleverly thought. She was amazed and confounded when she saw her mistress ascend the stone steps of a splendid mansion, more and more amazed when she saw her after ringing the bell and waiting but a few moments, disappear within the stately door. “Well, she’s got fine friends anyhow,” said Florine. She ascended the steps and read the name upon the door-plate. “Sir Edward Trueheart, upon my word,” she ejaculated.