is mutton-chop whiskers. "You let me help you."

"You?"

"Yes. Come, give me your arm," and he caught hold of her, as if to
assist her to arise.

"No, no! Please leave me!" she begged. "I can take care of myself.
Only give me the chance to get away!"

"Margaret! You are out of your mind."

"No, I am not."

"I know better. And I am not going to let you go away. You shall go
with me."

"Oh, Mr. Styles! Please go away."

"No," he answered firmly. "Come, you have got to go with me."

CHAPTER XXIX

A GLASS OF POISON

Margaret could do nothing but stare at the man before her. He was
heavy-set and powerful, and wont to having his own way.

"Mr. Styles--" she began, but he put his hand over her mouth.

"You are sick--out of your head," he interrupted. "I know what is
best, and you must do as I say. Come on." And he pulled her forward
by the hand.

"Where to?"

"Not very far."

"I--I do not wish to go to your home."

"I'll not take you there, don't fear."

"You are going to hand me over to the--the authorities."

"Never! Come. I won't hurt you."

He led the way through the woods, across a small stream and past a spot
where some wild berries grew. Then they struck a trail leading up a
hillside. The place was new to her.

"I want to know where you are taking me," she said presently, and came
to a halt.

"To a place where you will be safe."

"That isn't answering the question."

"We'll be there in a few minutes, and then you can see for yourself,
Margaret. Cannot you trust me, girl? I'm not going to hurt you. I
love you, and I'll do all I can to help you. Come!" And again he made
her move on.

At last they came in sight of a tumbled-down cottage on the edge of
what had once been a clearing, but which was now overgrown with weeds
and brushwood. As they came up, Margaret's strength gave out, and
suddenly she sank down on her knees.

"All in, are you?" he said, not unkindly, and, stooping, he picked her
up bodily. She tried to resist, but could not, and he took her into
the cottage and placed her on a couch.

"I'll get you a nurse," he said, noting her extreme paleness. "You
need one."

"A--a woman?"

"Yes."

"Thank you," she murmured, and then closed her eyes, for she was too
far gone to say more, or to make a move.

He was as good as his word, and when she roused up once more an old
woman was at Margaret's side. She had administered some sort of
drug--what