“Her maid--my sweetheart, you know--swore to me that she had all her jewels--diamonds, rubies, and pearls, worth ten thousand dollars--in a case in that little leather trunk. Her mother didn’t want her to bring them along, but Miss Ritchie vowed she would, and that settled it. She is a termagant, Hattie says, and wouldn’t bring her because she was determined to make a servant of a gipsy girl at The Crags, to humiliate the girl. If she would have brought Hattie, she would have managed to leave open a door and make all plain sailing for us. But she’s been there before, and has given me the lay of the land. They keep but two men servants, who sleep in a small annex to the main building. No one will be in our way but young Willoughby, and us two can easily settle his hash, and the girl’s, too, if she resists--d’ye see?” “Yaas, I see, and, if you’re rested enough, we’ll move on, Jack, for I’m anxious to git done the job by midnight, and git away before day. Maybe, too, if we git time enough to look about the dining-room, we can swag some of the silver plate. Come, git a move on ye, and say, if we could git a chance at the gipsy girl, maybe she’d be willin’ to open a door for us, eh? We might play the long-lost brother racket----” They trudged on heavily out of sight, and the girl, who had listened like one paralyzed with horror, gasped like one dying, as she comprehended the terrible truth. The ruffians were burglars from the city, in collusion with Lelia’s maid to rob her mistress of her valuable jewels, and even to take her life if she offered resistance. And Laurie Willoughby was to be murdered, too--handsome, brown-eyed Laurie, who had spoken to her so kindly and gently a few hours ago. These ruffianly hands would throttle him, perhaps, or plunge a dagger into his heart! Oh, Heaven, how terrible it all was! Could she only get there to warn them, she would be willing to crawl all the way, even if she died the next moment. She would make the attempt, anyway, and, getting down on her hands and knees, Gipsy dragged herself through the spectral mist to the road, and began her brave effort to reach The Crags. But every movement added fresh agony and brought moans of pain from her pale lips. She would have given anything to have known even the hour of the night. It seemed to her that the midnight hour must be already past. Yet it could not be, for the men who had gone ahead just now--the horrible masked burglars--had said they intended to finish their job by midnight. In almost intolerable pain, she crept over the ground, her poor little hands torn and bleeding with stones and brier scratches. Surely the beautiful stars never looked on a sadder, more pitiable sight. * * * * *