e _did_ say it, did she?"

"She said that or something very like it. You think that's what she
must have meant?" He appealed to her humbly, as to one who had
mastered the difficult subject of Frida Tancred.

"Why, whatever else _could_ she have meant, stupid?"

There was an awkward silence, broken, or rather mended, by Miss
Chatterton saying, as she stood with her hand on the door:

"Look here, you're not going to back out of it. You've promised to
stand by and see us through with it, honor bright."

"I promised nothing of the sort, but I'll stand by all right."

"You may have a bad time. The Colonel will kick up an awful fuss;
but remember, you're not in the least responsible. I'm the
criminal."

It was as if she had said, "Don't exaggerate your importance. I, not
you, am Miss Tancred's savior and deliverer."

He stiffened visibly. "I shall not quarrel with you for the _role_."

XII

Monday was the day of the great deliverance, the day that was fixed
for Frida Tancred's flight. And, as if it meant to mark an era and a
hegira and the beginning of revolution, it distinguished itself from
other days by suitable signs and portents. It dawned through a
brooding haze that threatened heat, then changed its mind, thickened
and massed itself for storm. While he was dressing, Durant was made
aware of the meteorological disturbance by an incessant tap-tap on
the barometer as the Colonel consulted his oracle in the hall. The
official announcement was made at breakfast.

"There is a change in the glass," said the Colonel. "Mr. Durant
brought the fine weather with him and Miss Chatterton is taking it
away."

"I'm taking something else away beside the weather," said she.

But the spirit of prophecy was upon him.

"To judge by to-day's forecast, I think we shall see Frida back
again before the fine weather."

Whereupon Durant smiled and Miss Chatterton laughed, which gave him
an agreeable sense of being witty as well as prophetic.

By ten o'clock the hand of the barometer had crept far past
"Change"; by noon it had swung violently to "Stormy, with much
rain"; by lunchtime a constrained and awkward dialogue was broken by
the rude voice of the thunder. The Colonel took out his watch, timed
the thunder and lightning, and calculated the approaches of the
storm. "Seven miles away from us at present," said he.

It hung so low that the growling and groaning seemed to come from
the woods round Coton Manor; the landscap