,
frightened. The sensation was new to her. Again the delicious
feeling of being utterly in his power came over her, and she left
her hand upon his heart, and blushed as she felt its passionate
throbbings.

He turned to go--not as before. She followed with greedy eyes her
new-found treasure; and as the door closed behind him, she felt as
if Lancelot was the whole world, and there was nothing beside him,
and wondered how a moment had made him all in all to her; and then
she sank upon her knees, and folded her hands upon her bosom, and
her prayers for him were like the prayers of a little child.

CHAPTER XI: THUNDERSTORM THE FIRST

But what had become of the 'bit of writing' which Harry Verney, by
the instigation of his evil genius, had put into the squire's fly-
book? Tregarva had waited in terrible suspense for many weeks,
expecting the explosion which he knew must follow its discovery. He
had confided to Lancelot the contents of the paper, and Lancelot had
tried many stratagems to get possession of it, but all in vain.
Tregarva took this as calmly as he did everything else. Only once,
on the morning of the eclaircissement between Lancelot and Argemone,
he talked to Lancelot of leaving his place, and going out to seek
his fortune; but some spell, which he did not explain, seemed to
chain him to the Priory. Lancelot thought it was the want of money,
and offered to lend him ten pounds whenever he liked; but Tregarva
shook his head.

'You have treated me, sir, as no one else has done--like a man and a
friend; but I am not going to make a market of your generosity. I
will owe no man anything, save to love one another.'

'But how do you intend to live?' asked Lancelot, as they stood
together in the cloisters.

'There's enough of me, sir, to make a good navigator if all trades
fail.'

'Nonsense! you must not throw yourself away so.'

'Oh, sir, there's good to be done, believe me, among those poor
fellows. They wander up and down the land like hogs and heathens,
and no one tells them that they have a soul to be saved. Not one
parson in a thousand gives a thought to them. They can manage old
folks and little children, sir, but, somehow, they never can get
hold of the young men--just those who want them most. There's a
talk about ragged schools, now. Why don't they try ragged churches,
sir, and a ragged service?'

'What do you mean?'

'Why, sir, the parsons are