upon the mantel-piece, the wretched ill-chosen books; then listened to the splash of the rain in the unpaved street.  “And this was Paradise, was it, my poor boy, because this girl dwelt in it!  I ought to have known that there was danger here.  His letters few and short and far between, his patient tarrying in so wild a place, should have been enough to warn me.  But not of this; in no nightmare dream could I have conceived this unimaginable peril.  Ah, me! ah, me!” She sat down at the untasted meal, and strove to eat.  “I must be strong, for Richard’s sake,” she murmured.  But she soon laid down her knife and fork to muse again.  “This Trevethick is a hard, stern man, I see.  There is no hope in his mercy.  The only path of safety is that which the lawyer pointed out; but will this puling girl have the heart and head to tread it?  Will she not faint, as she nearly did just now, and lose her wits when my Richard most requires them?  And then, and then?” As if unable to continue such reflections, she rose and rang the bell, which Hannah answered.

“Bring me a bed-candle, girl; I will seek my room at once; and please ask Miss Trevethick to look in upon me before she retires herself, for I feel far from well.”

“Yes, ma’am.”  Hannah thought within herself that the new arrival looked uncommon fresh and well considering her years, and that her young mistress had far more need of rest and “looking to” than she; but, nevertheless, she gave the message; and Harry, at her usual time for going to rest, repaired to the new-comer’s room accordingly.

“Are they gone to bed, those men?” inquired Mrs. Gilbert, anxiously, as soon as the door was closed.

“No, madam; my father and Solomon always sit up together now till late.”

“Ay; plotting against my boy, I doubt not.  Well, let us, then, counterplot.  Who sleeps on either side of this room?”

“No one, madam.  Both rooms are empty at present; the last visitor, except yourself, left us this evening.”

“And the servants?”

“They have retired long ago up stairs.”

“That’s well.  Sit here, then, close to me, and listen.  You know that Richard is in prison, placed there by your father and that other man on a false charge.  They know as well as I or you that he had no intention of committing the crime of which he stands accused, and yet they both mean to swear the contrary.”

“Oh, madam, they will surely not do that!”

“But I say ‘Yes;’ they want revenge upon him.  I know them better than you, who have known them all your life; or perhaps you say they will not, because you hope so.  Is it possible,” she broke forth, impatiently, “that in such a strait as this, girl, you can encourage such delusions!  You are like the fool in the Scripture, of whom it is written, that though thou shouldst bray him among wheat with a pestle, yet will not his foolishness depart from him.”

“I know I am not like you, madam,” answered Harry, piteously.  “Richard has often told me how wise and brave you are; but yet my love for him is as great as yours can be.  Whatever you think fit that I should do to help him, that shall be done.  Trust me; it shall, indeed.”