"No danger of that," was the quick reply. "Youth and health can bear much more than you have had to stand yet, my fine lady." She went out and did not return until noon. Her prisoner lay dressed upon the bed with flushed and burning cheeks and strangely glittering eyes. "Haidee," she said, "I cannot eat my dinner. I am feeling very strangely. I have a dreadful feeling here." She pressed her hand upon her heart and seemed to gasp for breath. "Go, send for the doctor as quickly as possible. Perhaps I am about to die!" Haidee looked at her in doubt a moment. The suffering aspect of the captive reassured her. She was evidently ill. "I will send at once for Doctor Pratt," said she, leaving the room in haste, but not forgetting to lock the door. "I have sent old Peter for the doctor," said she, returning "but it may be several hours before he returns. It is a long way to the city." "Sit down and stay with me, then, Haidee. I am afraid to remain alone when I feel so strangely." Ten, fifteen minutes elapsed, then the patient said, faintly: "Haidee, for the love of Heaven, try and get me a glass of wine! Perhaps it may relieve this wild fluttering and palpitation of my heart!" Again Haidee went out, locking the door as before. The patient sprang up and stood waiting when the witch returned. The key grated, the door swung open--but at that instant Haidee received a dexterous push that sent her sprawling into the middle of the room, the wine glass crashing on the floor. Before she could rise, Lily sprang past her, into the hall, slammed and locked the door, removed the key and ran wildly down the stairs. The outer door was fastened, but the key was in the lock. As she paused to remove it, she could hear the old woman's frenzied shrieks of anger and despair on realizing her situation. She flung the door open, flew down the path, pushed open the heavy iron gate, and ran wildly down the lonely country road, the afternoon sun beating hotly down on her unprotected head, the dust flying thick and fast beneath the rapid pit-a-pat of her small, slippered feet. CHAPTER XII. She was free, she was free! that happy thought beat time in Lily's heart to her wildly rushing feet. She was outside of that horrible prison, old Haidee was locked in, and could not pursue her, old Peter could not return for several hours. She had that much time in advance of them. Only a few miles lay between her and her loved home. Surely, surely, with the start she had she could distance her enemies and reach the haven of rest for which she yearned and prayed. She ran on and on, her brain reeling, her heart beating almost to suffocation, the perspiration running down her face in streams.