nstant his eyes swept her, observing the flushed cheeks and
disordered attire, leading her wonder at his unexpected appearance,
and--to his satisfaction!--her relief as well; only an instant, during
which the warder stared at him open-mouthed--and then his glance
rested on the now thoroughly sober limb of the law.

"Get out!" he said, briefly and harshly.

"But," began the other with a sickly grin, intended to be ingratiating,
"I don't understand--this unexpected manner--this forcible departure
from--"

Coolly raising his weapon, the patroon deliberately covered the
hapless jailer, who unceremoniously scrambled out of the door. The
land baron laughed, replaced his revolver and, turning to the young
girl, removed his hat.

"It was fortunate, Miss Carew, I happened along," he said gravely.
"With your permission, I will get in. You can tell me what has
happened as we drive along. The manor house, my temporary home, is not
far from here. If I can be of any service, command me!"

The jackal saw the patroon spring into the carriage, having fastened
his horse behind, and drive off. Until the vehicle had disappeared, he
stood motionless in the road, but when it had passed from sight, he
seated himself on a stone.

"That comes from mixing the breed!" he muttered. "Dramatic effect, _a
la France_!" He wiped the perspiration from his brow. "Well, I'm three
miles from my humble habitation, but I'd rather walk than ride--under
some circumstances!"

CHAPTER XIII

THE COMING OF LITTLE THUNDER

The afternoon was waning; against the golden western sky the old manor
house loomed in solemn majesty, the fields and forests emphasizing its
isolation in the darkening hour of sunset, as a coach, with jaded
horses, passed through the avenue of trees and approached the broad
portico. A great string of trailing vine had been torn from the walls
by the wind and now waved mournfully to and fro with no hand to adjust
it. In the rear was a huge-timbered barn, the door of which was
unfastened, swinging on its rusty hinges with a creaking and moaning
sound.

As gaily as in the days when the periwigged coachman had driven the
elaborate equipage of the early patroons through the wrought-iron gate
this modern descendant entered the historic portals, not to be met,
however, by servitors in knee breeches at the front door, but by the
solitary care-taker who appeared on the portico in considerable
disorder and evident state of excitement