e not ghosts: come along, Wenna," said Mabyn, hurriedly.

* * * * *

Let us go up to this road, where Harry Trelyon, tortured with anxiety
and impatience, is waiting. He had slipped away from the house pretty
nearly as soon as the gentlemen had gone into the drawing-room after
dinner, and on some excuse or other had got the horses put to a light
and yet roomy Stanhope phaeton. From the stable-yard he drove by a back
way into the main road without passing in front of the Hall: then he
quietly walked the horses down the steep hill and round the foot of the
valley to the point at which Mabyn was to make her appearance.

But he dared not stop there, for now and again some passer-by came along
the road; and even in the darkness Mrs. Trelyon's gray horses would be
recognized by any of the inhabitants of Eglosilyan, who would naturally
wonder what Master Harry was waiting for. He walked them a few hundred
yards one way, then a few hundred yards the other; and ever, as it
seemed to him, the danger was growing greater of some one from the inn
or from the Hall suddenly appearing and spoiling the whole plan.

Half-past ten arrived, and nothing could be heard of the girls. Then a
horrible thought struck him that Roscorla might by this time have left
the Hall, and would he not be coming down to this very road on his way
up to Basset Cottage? This was no idle fear: it was almost a matter of
certainty.

The minutes rolled themselves out into ages: he kept looking at his
watch every few seconds, yet he could hear nothing from the wood or the
valley of Mabyn's approach. Then he got down into the road, walked a few
yards this way and that, apparently to stamp the nervousness out of his
system, patted the horses, and finally occupied himself in lighting the
lamps. He was driven by the delay into a sort of desperation. Even if
Wenna and Mabyn did appear now, and if he was successful in his prayer,
there was every chance of their being interrupted by Roscorla, who had
without doubt left the Hall some time before.

Suddenly he stopped in his excited walking up and down. Was that a faint
"Hurrah!" that he heard in the distance. He went down to the stile at
the junction of the path and the road, and listened attentively. Yes, he
could hear at least one voice, as yet a long way off, but now he had no
more doubt. He walked quickly back to the carriage. "Ho, ho, my
hearties!" he said, stroking the heads of the