he half-raised himself from his
seat, as if ready to spring up and to start running again; running,
running until he dropped.

But obviously his strength was exhausted, for the next moment he fell
back against the cushions, the swollen lids fell upon the hollow eyes,
the sunken cheeks and parched lips became ashen white.

"Water!" he murmured.

She ministered to him kindly and gently, first holding the water to his
lips, then when he had quenched that raging thirst, she pulled the table
up close to his chair, and gave him milk to drink and bread and meat to
eat.

He seemed quite dazed, conscious only of bodily needs, for he ate and
drank ravenously without thought at first of thanking her. Only when he
had finished did he lean back once again against the cushions which her
kindly hand had placed behind him, and he murmured feebly like a tired
but satisfied child:

"You are an angel of goodness, Gilda. Had you not helped me to-night, I
should either have perished in a ditch, or fallen in the hands of the
Stadholder's minions."

Quickly she put a restraining hand on his shoulder. A firm step had
echoed in the flagged corridor beyond the oaken door.

"My father!" she whispered.

In a moment the instinct for life and liberty was fully aroused in the
fugitive; his apathy and exhaustion were forgotten; terror, mad,
unreasoning terror, had once more taken possession of his mind.

"Hide me, Gilda," he entreated hoarsely, and his hands clutched wildly
at her gown, "don't let him see me ... he would give me up ... he would
give me up...."

"Hush, in the name of God," she commanded, "he will hear you if you
speak."

Swiftly she blew out the candles, then with dilated anxious eyes
searched the recesses of the room for a hiding-place--the cupboard which
was too small--the wide hearth which was too exposed--the bed in the
wall....

His knees had given way under him, and, as he clutched at her gown, he
fell forward at her feet, and remained there crouching, trembling, his
circled eyes trying to pierce the surrounding gloom, to locate the
position of the door behind which lurked the most immediate danger.

"Hide me, Gilda," he murmured almost audibly under his breath, "for the
love you bore me once."

"Gilda!" came in a loud, kindly voice from the other side of the door.

"Yes, father!"

"You are not yet abed, are you, my girl?"

"I have just blown out the candles, dear," she contrived to reply with a
fairly s