sence that he did not heed her words.

"The lady is not dead," continued the girl, looking over her shoulders,
while her garment grew dusky, and lurid in the waning light. "I heard
her speaking, but a few moments ago."

James Harrington arose to his feet with grave dignity.

"You have come in good time, Miss Barker," he said. "If your cloak is
dry throw it around her; even in this warmth she shivers."

Agnes looked back as she drew off her short cloak, and held the garment
irresolutely in her hand.

"But you are wet and cold, too, wrap the cloak around yourself. What
life can be more precious!"

She said this in a low voice, and moved towards him. He put the garment
aside, and passing Agnes, stooped over Mrs. Harrington, addressing her
in a grave, gentle voice.

"Are you stronger, now, dear lady?"

"I think so!" answered Mabel, moving uneasily, "but some one else is
here--I heard speaking!"

"It was me," answered Agnes, spreading her cloak softly over Mabel; "I
saw your peril, dear Mrs. Harrington, and came to offer help. My old
nurse lives upon the hill--if you can walk so far, she will be glad to
shelter you."

Mabel attempted to sit up. The presence of Agnes Barker excited her
with new strength. She pushed aside the cloak with a feeling of
repulsion, and looked pleadingly on Harrington.

"You will not take me up there!" she said. "It is a dreary, dreary
place!"

"But it is the only shelter at hand," urged Harrington.

"I know; but that woman--don't place me, helpless as I am, with that
strange woman!"

"You will find a capital nurse there; I left her preparing a warm bed!"
whispered Agnes, stooping toward Harrington, till her breath floated
across his face; "the walk is a little toilsome, but short; between us,
I think she could manage it."

Mabel heard the whisper, and sinking back on her bed of leaves, pleaded
against the measure.

"I cannot go up there," she said with some resolution, "I could not rest
with that woman near."

"Of whom does she speak?" inquired Harrington.

"It is impossible for me to guess; the fright has unsettled her mind, I
fear," answered Agnes.

"No, I am sane enough," murmured Mrs. Harrington, "but I have been
warned. No human voice ever spoke more plainly than that lone night
bird, as I went up the hollow--he knew that it was unholy ground I trod
upon!"

"But you are not strong enough to reach home," persisted the girl Agnes,
"the river is yet rough--the wind uns