“Barbara, you are keeping me in suspense,” interrupted Mrs. Hare, who had also grown white.  “What should Anne know about Richard?”

Barbara smoothed out the writing, and held it before her mother.  It was as follows:—­

“I have had a curious note from R. It was without date or signature, but I knew his handwriting.  He tells me to let you know, in the most sure and private manner that I can, that he will soon be paying another night visit.  You are to watch the grove every evening when the present moon gets bright.”

Mrs. Hare covered her face for some minutes.  “Thank God for all his mercies,” she murmured.

“Oh, mamma, but it is an awful risk for him to run!”

“But to know that he is in life—­to know that he is in life!  And for the risk—­Barbara, I dread it not.  The same God who protected him through the last visit, will protect him through this.  He will not forsake the oppressed, the innocent.  Destroy the paper, child.”

“Archibald Carlyle must first see it, mamma.”

“I shall not be easy until it is destroyed, Barbara.”

Braving the comments of the gossips, hoping the visit would not reach the ears or eyes of the justice, Barbara went that day to the office of Mr. Carlyle.  He was not there, he was at West Lynne; he had gone to Lynneborough on business, and Mr. Dill thought it a question if he would be at the office again that day.  If so, it would be late in the afternoon.  Barbara, as soon as their own dinner was over, took up her patient station at the gate, hoping to see him pass; but the time went by and he did not.  She had little doubt that he had returned home without going to West Lynne.

What should she do?  “Go up to East Lynne and see him,” said her conscience.  Barbara’s mind was in a strangely excited state.  It appeared to her that this visit of Richard’s must have been specially designed by Providence, that he might be confronted by Thorn.

“Mamma,” she said, returning indoors, after seeing the justice depart upon an evening visit to the Buck’s Head, where he and certain other justices and gentlemen sometimes congregated to smoke and chat, “I shall go up to East Lynne, if you have no objection.  I must see Mr. Carlyle.”

Away went Barbara.  It had struck seven when she arrived at East Lynne.

“Is Mr. Carlyle disengaged?”

“Mr. Carlyle is not yet home, miss.  My lady and Miss Carlyle are waiting dinner for him.”

A check for Barbara.  The servant asked her to walk in, but she declined and turned from the door.  She was in no mood for visit paying.

Lady Isabel had been standing at the window watching for her husband and wondering what made him so late.  She observed Barbara approach the house, and saw her walk away again.  Presently the servant who had answered the door, entered the drawing-room.

“Was not that Miss Hare?”

“Yes, my lady,” was the man’s reply.  “She wanted master.  I said your ladyship was at home, but she would not enter.”