"What has become of that pretty girl you brought home from Farmer Thorn's?" "She went away two days ago," was the sleepy reply. "With Leon Vinton, I presume," said Queenie, scornfully. "No, she went alone." "Betrayed and abandoned, no doubt," said Queenie, bitterly. "Something like that, certainly," answered the housekeeper, carelessly, and with that she turned over and went to sleep again, leaving Queenie to her own reflections. They were not pleasant ones, certainly. The room was chilly, and she took up a shawl, wrapped it about her shoulders, and went back to her lonely vigil, pressing her forehead against the pane while she looked out into the cold winter night. "Oh, to be out there in the night, and the cold, and the darkness," she murmured. "Oh, to feel the breath of freedom on my brow once more, and hope within my heart! "How lonely, how dreary everything seems," she went on. "How dark and dreary the river looks except where the bars of moonlight touch it with brightness; how ghostly and skeleton-like the trees appear, tossing their naked arms in the breeze; how weird and melancholy the silent, deserted earth looks at midnight!" Suddenly she started and uttered a low cry. She fancied that she had seen a dark form darting cautiously about the garden beneath the windows. She looked out again, and for a moment she thought herself mistaken, but directly the dark form of a man appeared from behind a tree, and skirting a strip of moonlight with cautious footsteps, disappeared in the shadows. "What can that man be after?" she thought. "It is not Leon Vinton. Whom, then, can it be? Perhaps a burglar." She continued to watch for him, and presently she saw him take up his station under a tree near the gate as if watching or waiting for someone. "It must be a burglar," she said to herself. "He is waiting for his accomplice to come that they may rob the house. Shall I wake Mrs. Bowers and tell her?" She mused a moment, still watching the dark, mysterious form lurking under the shadow of the trees near the gate. "No, I will not tell her," she concluded. "What does it matter to me? I care not what they do. Perhaps they may enter this room, and by some means I may effect my escape." Her heart began to beat at the thought, and the light of hope came into her beautiful eyes, brightening her whole face. She continued to watch the mysterious figure, expecting every minute to see his accomplice appear on the scene; but the hours passed slowly by and the man still remained at his post alone. At the first peep of dawn he went away, leaving Queenie perplexed and doubtful. "Who can it be?" she asked herself. "It seems quite evident that he is not here for the purpose of robbery. What, then, is he after? Can it be some friend of mine?" The thought overpowered her with joy. "Oh, why did I not raise the window and give him some signal?" she thought.