ut changing her mind, she took a chair on the other side
of the fire and her face also bore the cast of resolution.

"It is no use, Miss Grayson," said Prescott. "I am here for the best of
purposes, I assure you, and I will not stir. Please call Miss
Catherwood."

Miss Grayson held out for a minute or two longer, and then, a red spot
in either cheek, she walked into the next room and returned with Lucia.

Prescott knew her step, light as it was, before she came, and his heart
beat a little more heavily. He rose, too, and bowed with deep respect
when she appeared, feeling a strange thrill of pleasure at seeing her
again.

He had wondered in what aspect she would appear, she whose nature seemed
to him so varied and contradictory, and whose face was the index to
these changing phases. She came in quietly, a young girl, pale,
inquiring, yet saying no word; but there was a sparkle in her gaze that
made the blood leap for a moment to Prescott's face.

"Miss Catherwood," he said, "you forbade me to return here, but I have
come nevertheless."

She was still silent, her inquiring look upon him.

"You must leave Richmond to-night!" he said. "There must be no delay."

She made a gesture as if she would call his attention to the frozen
world outside and said:

"I am willing enough to leave Richmond if I knew a way."

"I will find the way--I go with you!"

"That I cannot permit; you shall not risk your future by making such an
attempt with me."

"It will certainly be risked greatly if I do not make the attempt with
you," he replied.

They looked at him in wonder. Prescott saw now, by a sudden intuition,
the course of action that would appeal to them most, and he said:

"It is as much for my sake as it is for yours. That you are here is
known to a man powerful in this Government, and he knows also that I am
aware of your presence. There is to be another search for you and I
shall be forced to lead it. It means my ruin unless you escape before
that search begins."

Then he explained to them as much as he thought necessary, although he
did not give Mr. Sefton's name, and dwelt artfully upon his own peril
rather than upon hers.

Lucia Catherwood neither moved nor spoke as Prescott told the story.
Once there was a strange light in her eyes as she regarded him, but it
was momentary, gone like a flash, and her face remained expressionless.

"But is there a way?" asked Miss Grayson in doubt and alarm.

"I shall find a