is not really very far. Will you go?'

But, my child, it will take me at least an hour to walk there and back!
I should only miss him on the way. Are you afraid of something?

'Yes, I am. I believe something has happened to him.'

'Those are your fancies. You are very poorly; it is cruel to me to
refuse to go to bed.'

'Will you go, mother?--If you do not, I must; ill or not, I must go.'

She started to her feet. Her mother gazed at her in fear,--believing it
the beginning of delirium.

'Emily, my dear child,' she pleaded, laying her hand on the girl's arm,
'won't you come upstairs,--to please me, dear?'

'Mother, if you will go, I promise to lie here quietly till you return.'

'But it is impossible to leave you alone in the house. Look, now, it is
nine o'clock; in half an hour, an hour at most, your father will be
back. Why, you know how often he stays late when he gets talking.'

Emily was silent for a few minutes. Then she said--

'Will you ask Mrs. Hopkins to send her servant?'

'But think--the trouble it will be giving.'

'Will you do it? I wish it. Will you go and ask her I will give the girl
money.'

'If you are so determined, of course I will ask her. But I'm sure--'

At length she left the room, to go out of the house by the back-door and
call at the neighbours'. Scarcely was she away, when Emily darted
upstairs, and in an instant was down again, with her hat and a cloak;
another moment, and she was out in the road. She did not forget the
terror her mother would suffer, on finding her gone; but endurance had
reached its limit. It was growing dark. After one look in the direction
of Dunfield, she took the opposite way, and ran towards the Heath, ran
till her breath failed and she had to drop into a quick walk. Once more
she was going to the Upper Heath, and to the house which was the source
of all her misery. When she reached the quarry it was quite dark at her
approach she saw the shape of a man move away into the shadow of the
quarried rock, and an unreasoning fear spurred her past the spot. Five
minutes more and she was at Dagworthy's gate. She rang the door-bell.

The servant told her that Mr. Dagworthy was at home; she declined to
give her name, but said she must see him at once. Speedily she was led
into a room, where her enemy sat alone.

He looked at her wonderingly, then with a deep flush--for now he surely
had gained his end,--he advanced towards her without speaking.

'Where is my