But Scott was merciful.  He withdrew the probe and very pitifully he closed the wound that he had opened.  “No, no!” he said.  “That has nothing to do with me—­or with Eustace either.  But it makes your case absolutely plain.  Come with me now—­before you feel any worse about it—­and ask him to give you your release!”

“Oh, Scott!” She looked up at him at last, and though there was a measure of relief in her eyes, her face was deathly.  “Oh, Scott,—­dare I do that?”

“I shall be there,” he said.

“Yes,—­yes, you will be there!  You won’t leave me?  Promise!” She clasped his arm in entreaty.

He looked into her eyes, and there was a great kindness in his own—–­the kindness of Greatheart arming himself to defend his pilgrims.  “Yes, I promise that,” he said, adding, “unless I leave you at your own desire.”

“You will never do that,” Dinah said and smiled with quivering lips.  “You are good to me.  Oh, you are good!  But—­but—­”

“But what?” he questioned gently.

“He may refuse to set me free,” she said desperately.  “What then?”

“My dear, no one is married by force now-a-days,” he said.

Her face changed as a sudden memory swept across her.  “And my mother!  My mother!” she said.

“Don’t you think we had better deal with one difficulty at a time?” suggested Scott.

His hand sought hers, he drew her to her feet.

And, as one having no choice, she submitted and went with him.

It was still raining, but the heaviest of the shower was over.  A gleam of sunshine lit the distance as they went, and a faint, faint ray of hope dawned in Dinah’s heart at the sight.  Though her deliverance was yet to be achieved, though she dreaded unspeakably that which lay before her, at least the door was open, could she but reach it to pass through.  She breathed a purer air already.  And beside her stood Greatheart the valiant, covering her with his shield of gold.

CHAPTER XVII

THE LION IN THE PATH

A large and merry party of guests were congregated in the great hall at Perrythorpe Court, having tea.  One of them—­a young soldier-cousin of the Studleys—­was singing a sentimental ditty at a piano to which no one was listening; and the hubbub was considerable.

Dinah, admitted into the outer hall that was curtained off from the gay crowd, shrank nearer to Scott as the cheery tumult reached her.

“Need we—­must we—­go in that way?” she whispered.

There was a door on the right of the porch.  Scott turned towards it.

“I suppose we can go in there?” he said to the man who had admitted them.

“The gun-room, sir?  Yes, if you wish, sir.  Shall I bring tea?”

“No,” Scott said quietly.  “Find Sir Eustace Studley if you can, and ask him to join us there!  Come along, Dinah!”