The carriage stopped at last; she heard the door open, she felt herself lifted out; there was a rush of cold air for an instant, then they entered a house; a door closed behind them, and she was being borne upstairs and into a room.

“Now that we have arrived, Miss Mollie,” said that strange voice, “we will unbind you, and you really must overlook the hard necessity which compelled so strong a course toward a lady.  I give you fair warning that it will be of no use straining your lungs screaming; for if you shrieked for a month, no one would hear you through these padded walls.  Now, then!”

He took the gag from her mouth, and Mollie caught her breath with a gasp.  He untied the bandage round her eyes, and for a second or two she was dazzled by the sudden blaze of light.  The instant she could see, she turned full upon her abductor.

Alas and alas! he wore a black mask, a flowing wig, a beard, and a long cloak reaching to the floor.

He was a tall man—­that was the only thing Mollie could make out of the disguise.

“Miss Dane does not spare me; but it is all in vain.  She may gaze until her lovely eyes drop from their sockets, and she will not recognize me.  And now I will leave you.  I will intrude upon you as little as is absolutely possible.  If you need anything, ring the bell.  Good-night, my beautiful Mollie, and happy dreams.”

He bowed politely and moved toward the door.  Mollie made a step toward him, with upraised arm: 

“Stay!”

The man halted at once.

“How long am I to be imprisoned here?”

“My fair one, I told you before:  until you consent to become my wife.”

“Are you mad?” exclaimed Mollie, scornfully; “or do you think I am?  Your wife!  I am here in your power—­kill me, if you dare, you cowardly abductor!  I will die ten thousand deaths—­I’ll live on here until my head is hoary—­I’ll dash my brains out against yonder wall, but I’ll never, never, never become your wife!”

The man shrugged his shoulders.

“Strong language, my dear; but words, words, words!  I won’t kill you, and you won’t live here until your head is hoary.  Golden locks like yours are a long time turning gray.  And you won’t dash your brains out against the walls, because the walls are padded.  Is there anything else you wish to say, Miss Dane?”

“Only this,” with blazing eyes, “that whoever you are, you are the vilest, basest, most cowardly wretch on the wide earth!  Go!  I would murder you if I was able!”

“Not a doubt of it, my angel!  Once more, good-night!”

He bowed low, passed out, and locked the door.  Mollie was alone in her prison.

Now, little Cricket, fairy that she was, was yet brave as any giantess.  Not a drop of craven blood flowed in her spirited veins.  Therefore, left alone, she neither wept, nor raved, nor tore her hair; but took a prolonged survey of her surroundings.