es, another time; but go now." She had extinguished the candle,
turned the handle of the door noiselessly, and was holding it open. A
faint light stole through the dark passage. She drew back hastily.
"You have left the front door open," she said in a frightened voice. "I
thought you had shut it behind me," he returned quickly. "Good night."
He drew her towards him. She resisted slightly. They were for an instant
clasped in a passionate embrace; then there was a sudden collapse of the
light and a dull jar. The front door had swung to.

With a desperate bound she darted into the passage and through the hall,
dragging him by the hand, and threw the front door open. Without, the
street was silent and empty.

"Go," she whispered frantically.

Demorest passed quickly down the steps and disappeared. At the same
moment a voice came from the banisters of the landing above. "Who's
there?"

"It's I, mother."

"I thought so. And it's like Edward to bring you and sneak off in that
fashion."

Mrs. Blandford gave a quick sigh of relief. Demorest's flight had been
mistaken for her husband's habitual evasion. Knowing that her mother
would not refer to the subject again, she did not reply, but slowly
mounted the dark staircase with an assumption of more than usual
hesitating precaution, in order to recover her equanimity.

The clocks were striking eleven when she left her mother's house and
re-entered her own. She was surprised to find a light burning in the
kitchen, and Ezekiel, their hired man, awaiting her in a dominant and
nasal key of religious and practical disapprobation. "Pity you wern't
tu hum afore, ma'am, considerin' the doins that's goin' on in perfessed
Christians' houses arter meetin' on the Sabbath Day."

"What's the difficulty now, Ezekiel?" said Mrs. Blandford, who had
regained her rigorous precision once more under the decorous security of
her own roof.

"Wa'al, here comes an entire stranger axin for Squire Blandford. And
when I tells he warn't tu hum--"

"Not at home?" interrupted Mrs. Blandford, with a slight start. "I left
him here."

"Mebbee so, but folks nowadays don't 'pear to keer much whether they
break the Sabbath or not, trapsen' raound town in and arter meetin'
hours, ez if 'twor gin'ral tranin' day--and hez gone out agin."

"Go on," said Mrs. Blandford, curtly.

"Wa'al, the stranger sez, sez he, 'Show me the way to the stables,' sez
he, and without taken' no for an answer, ups and meander