It was our intention that you should have plenty of notice
before she left you, time to find someone for her place; but after what
has happened, it's your own fault, madame, if we marry with a special
licence, and I take her out of this house to-morrow. I only wish it might
be now----"

"It _shall_ be now!" Mrs. Ellsworth screamed him down. "The girl doesn't
darken my doors another hour. I don't know who you are, and I don't want
to know. But with or without you, Annesley Grayle leaves my house
to-night."

"Mrs. Ellsworth, surely you haven't stopped to think what you're saying!"
protested Ruthven Smith. "You can't turn a girl into the street in the
middle of the night with a young man you don't know, even if she is
engaged to him."

"I won't have her here, after the way she's treated me--after the way
she's acted altogether," Mrs. Ellsworth insisted. "Let her go to your
cousins' if you think they'd approve of her conduct. As for me, I doubt
it. And I'm sure she lied when she said they'd asked her to dine with
them to-night. I don't believe she went near them."

Ruthven Smith, who had made a surprise visit at the Archdeacon's and
dined there, had heard no mention of Annesley Grayle being expected. For
an instant he was silenced, but the girl did not lack a defender.

"She will not need to beg for Archdeacon Smith's hospitality," said the
young man. "And even if Mrs. Ellsworth implored her to stay, I couldn't
allow it now. I will see that Miss Grayle is properly sheltered and cared
for to-night by a lady whose kindness will make her forget what she has
suffered. As soon as possible we shall be married by special licence. Go
to your room, dearest, and put together a few things for to-night and
to-morrow morning--just what will fit into a hand-bag. If there's
anything else you value, it can be sent for later. Then I'll take you
away."

The words were brave and comforting, and a wave of emotion swept
Annesley's soul toward the mysterious, unknown soul of her knight. It
was so strong, so compelling a wave that she had no fear in trusting,
herself to him. He was her refuge, her protector.

For a moment of gratitude she even forgot he was mysterious, forgot that
a few hours ago she had been ignorant of his existence. When remembrance
flooded her brain, her only fear was for him. What if the watchers should
still be there when they went out of the house together?

She had turned to go to her room as he suggested when su