he would have had the reins in his own hand.  It was by an unexpected, but I hope fortunate chance, that I overheard a conversation to this effect between him and the deformed servant.  I could not ascertain the day set for this adventure, but I surmised that it was at no remote date, and I have kept alert.  You have avoided me, Miss Reef, and I have been obliged to watch your movements distantly.  Not from suspicion of you, for I know you to be pure and honorable, but because you are under my protection, and because”—­he hesitated—­I wondered what was coming next.  I had a presentiment that he was about to make an avowal which I ought to shun, but before I could evade him he turned suddenly toward me, his face white with emotion, and continued—­“I love you, Agnes, though it is no time now to speak of my passion, and have watched over you as a father, a brother, a lover would watch.”

This announcement affected me more than I care to confess, considering I did not return his love, but it was the allusion to his sheltering care that moved me.

“Yes, I have watched over you; orphan that you are, you need some guardian care.  I knew by your frequent journeys to the village, by your cloistering in your own apartment, and more than all, by your speaking countenance, that you were preparing for some great event in your life.

“Last night I could not sleep; I laid my head upon my pillow, but finding it impossible to close my eyes I arose and dressed.  Sitting by my window I thought I heard a commotion in your room.  I listened until my surmises grew into certainty.  The hour was midnight, and your door, which at that season is usually closed like a cloister-gate, swung on its hinges.

“This alarmed me; I unlocked my door and looked out.  Soon a hasty step retreating from your chamber met my ear.  Descending the stairs, this untimely visitor entered the room where Herbert lay sleeping.  A strange suspicion came over me.  Can the intruder be Richard?  I thought.  If so, what was he doing at that hour of the night?  I seized a lighted candle and rushed to the boy’s apartment, and there I found Richard, maddened, and beside himself with liquor and frenzy.  I was just in time to save Herbert’s life from his insane fury.

“I know not what had occurred between you and him, Agnes, but this I know, he had failed in some diabolical plot he had contemplated.  Chance or a friendly Providence had thwarted his purpose.  I had him in my power, and compelled him to leave the house, not to return until you have been removed where he will never find you.

“I cannot leave my beautiful bird, my pet dove, where the charms of this wily serpent may ensnare her.”

He ceased.  My eyes were dry, my heart turned to stone.  I arose, and mechanically moved toward the door.

“Where are you going, Agnes?  Tell me of your plans; regard me as your friend, I beg.”

“Take me away—­take me away,” I cried hysterically; “I must go!  Oh, oh, oh!” I should have fallen, but he caught me in his arms.