hreshold, locking the door as before.

My share of breakfast was a little tea; but Madame's digestion was seldom
disturbed by her sympathies, and she ate voraciously. During this process
there was a silence unusual in her company; but when her meal was ended she
proposed a reconnaissance, professing much uncertainty as to whether my
Uncle had been arrested or not.

'And in case the poor old gentleman be poot in what you call stone jug,
where are _we_ to go my dear Maud--to Knowl or to Elverston? You must
direct.'

And so she disappeared, turning the key in the door as before. It was an
old custom of hers, locking herself in her room, and leaving the key in the
lock; and the habit prevailed, for she left it there again.

With a heavy heart I completed my simple toilet, wondering all the while
how much of Madame's story might be false and how much, if any, true. Then
I looked out upon the dingy courtyard below, in its deep damp shadow, and
thought, 'How could an assassin have scaled that height in safety, and
entered so noiselessly as not to awaken the slumbering gamester?' Then
there were the iron bars across my window. What a fool had I been to object
to that security!

I was labouring hard to reassure myself, and keep all ghastly suspicions at
arm's length. But I wished that my room had been to the front of the house,
with some view less dismal.

Lost in these ruminations of fear, as I stood at the window I was startled
by the sound of a sharp tread on the lobby, and by the key turning in the
lock of my door.

In a panic I sprang back into the corner, and stood with my eyes fixed
upon the door. It opened a little, and the black head of Meg Hawkes was
introduced.

'Oh, Meg!' I cried; 'thank God!'

'I guessed'twas you, Miss Maud. I am feared, Miss.'

The miller's daughter was pale, and her eyes, I thought, were red and
swollen.

'Oh, Meg! for God's sake, what is it all?'

'I darn't come in. The old un's gone down, and locked the cross-door, and
left me to watch. They think I care nout about ye, no more nor themselves.
I donna know all, but summat more nor her. They tell her nout, she's so
gi'n to drink; they say she's not safe, an' awful quarrelsome. I hear a
deal when fayther and Master Dudley be a-talkin' in the mill. They think,
comin' in an' out, I don't mind; but I put one think an' t'other together.
An' don't ye eat nor drink nout here, Miss; hide away this; it's black
enough, but wholesome anyhow!'