A thought occurred to me.  “Mr. Burress,” I said (I had retained his name with its remarkable prefix), “will you not lock the gate outside?  I can wait patiently until you secure your premises—­and—­and bring away the key.”

“I had meant to leave it here until my return, but you are right,” speaking indulgently.  “I suppose burglars are abroad on nights like this,” and he quietly relocked the alley-gate.  “You are very considerate,” he said, dryly, after we had gone a few yards in profound silence, “but had I not better return for a lantern?”

“Oh, not for worlds!  Faster—­faster, Mr. Burress, and Heaven will reward you!  Never mind the stones—­the snow—­the mud—­so that we get there first!  Yes, I see where the lane turns; I see very well in the dark—­never fear—­only do not delay—­I am so glad you locked the alley-gate.  They cannot come that way.”

“Of whom are you afraid, poor young lady?  Nobody would harm you, I am sure; such a gentle, tender thing as you seem to be!”

“Oh, yes!  Fiends are on my track!  Don’t let them get possession of me again, Mr. Burress, I am pursued—­yes—­faster—­faster!”

“But what has startled you, poor thing, since we left the Repository?  You seemed quite calm after the Perkins elixir—­and those tears.  Ah!  I understand!” and he coughed several times significantly.  “The doctor will set all right, I suppose, when I give you into his hands.  I am glad I came with you myself—­courage, we shall soon be there!”

“Yes—­yes—­he is my only hope!  I will explain all when we are safe with him.  It is not as you think!  I have no strength now.  Don’t question me further, it exhausts me to talk.  Just drag me along.”

And silently and valiantly did he betake himself to his task.  The noisome alley was threaded, and again we emerged into the sleety, lamp-lit street, a few doors from the corner of that block, in the centre of which Dr. Pemberton resided.

As we approached the friendly threshold, the exact situation of which was familiar to my companion, he pointed it out triumphantly with his stick.

“We shall soon be there,” he reiterated, “no need for hurry now.”  But as he spoke I saw a carriage turn the corner we were facing, and again I urged on my lagging escort to his utmost speed.  I ran up the sleety steps in advance of him, and rang the bell with convulsive energy.  Its summons was answered promptly, but not a second too soon, for, as the door opened to admit me, the carriage paused before the door, and two men leaped from it, one of whom, the taller, thrusting Burress aside, rushed up the steps after me with outstretched arms.

I had found refuge in the vestibule, and slammed the door in his face—­closing, as it did, with a spring-lock—­before he reached the platform.  Then turning to his companion, he fled down to the street again, with the cry that reached my ear distinctly, of “Baffled, by God!” on his profane lips, and the twain drove off as rapidly as they had come.