is
shoulder. Either a gust of air had extinguished the light in the
candelabra on the mantel, or the tallow dip had burnt itself out, for
the room was now in total darkness so that they could dimly see,
without being seen.

"These men are not the ones who just fled," he replied.

"Then who are they?" she half-whispered, drawing unconsciously closer
in that moment of jeopardy, her face distant but a curl's length.

Below the men were dismounting, tying their horses among the trees.
Like a noisy band of troopers they were talking excitedly, but their
words were indistinguishable.

"Why do you suppose they fled from them?" she continued.

Was it a tendril of the vine that touched his cheek gently? He
started, his face toward the haze in the open borderland.

"Clearly these men are not the lease-holders. They may be seeking
you."

She turned eagerly from the window. In the darkness their hands met.
Momentary compunction made her pause.

"I haven't yet thanked you!" And he felt the cold, nervous pressure of
her hands on his. "You must have ridden very hard and very far!"

His hand closed suddenly upon one of hers. He was not thinking of the
ride, but of how she had placed herself beside him in his moment of
peril; how she had held them--not long--but a moment--yet long
enough!

"They're coming in! They're down stairs!" she exclaimed excitedly.

A flickering light below suddenly threw dim moving shadows upon the
ceiling of the hall. As she spoke she stepped forward and stumbled
over the debris at the door. His arm was about her, almost before the
startled exclamation had fallen from her lips; for a moment her
shapely, young figure rested against him. But quickly she extricated
herself, and they picked their way cautiously over the bestrewn
threshold out into the hall.

At the balustrade, they paused. Reconnoitering at the turn, they were
afforded full survey of the lower hall where the latest comers had
taken possession. Few in numbers, the gathering had come to a dead
stop, regarding in surprise the broken door, and the furniture
wantonly demolished. But amid this scene of rack and ruin, an object
of especial wonder to the newcomers was the great lifting-stone lying
in the hall amid the havoc it had wrought.

"No one but Dick, the tollman, could have thrown that against the
door!" said a little man who seemed a person of authority. "I wonder
where the patroon can be?"

With unusual pallor of face the young