clearing. I might have given some of the
fellows in charge then if I had had my wits
about me. But there will be no difficulty:
plenty of people can identify them."

"But won't they come back to-night?"

"I'm going to see about a sufficient guard
for the premises. I have appointed to meet
Captain Hanbury in half an hour at the
station."

"You must have some tea first."

"Tea! Yes, I suppose I must. It's
half-past-six, and I may be out for some time.
Don't sit up for me, mother."

"You expect me to go to bed before I
have seen you safe, do you?"

"Well, perhaps not." He hesitated for a
moment. " But, if I have time, I shall go
round by Crampton, after I have arranged
with the police and seen Hamper and Clarkson."
Their eyes met; they looked at each
other intently for a minute. Then she
asked:

"Why are you going round by Crampton?"

"To ask after Miss Hale."

"I will send. Williams must take the
water-bed she came to ask for. He shall
inquire how she is."

"I must go myself."

"Not merely to ask how Miss Hale is?"

"No, not merely for that. I want to thank
her for the way in which she stood between
me and the mob."

"What made you go down at all? It
was putting your head into the lion's
mouth!"

He glanced sharply at her; saw that she
did not know what had passed between him
and Margaret in the drawing-room; and
replied by another question:

"Shall you be afraid to be left without me
until I can get some of the police; or had
we better send Williams for them now, and
they could be here by the time we have done
tea? There is no time to be lost. I must
be olf in a quarter of an hour."

Mrs. Thornton left the room. Her
servants wondered at her directions, usually so
sharply-cut and decided, now confused and
uncertain. Mr. Thornton remained in the
dining-room, trying to think of the business
he had to do at the police-office, and in
reality thinking of Margaret. Everything
seemed dim and vague beyond—behind—
besides the touch of her arms round his
neck—the soft clinging which made the dark
colour come and go in his cheek as he
thought of it.

The tea would have been very silent, but
for fanny's perpetual description of her own
feelings; how she had been alarmed—and
then thought they were gone—and then felt
sick and faint and trembling in every limb.

"There, that's enough," said her brother,
rising from the table. "The reality was
enough for me." He was going to leave the
room, when his mother stopped him with her
hand upon his arm.

"You will come back here before you go
to the Hales'," said she, in a low, anxious
voice.

"I know what I know," said Fanny to
herself.

"Why? Will it be too late to disturb
them?"

"John, come back to me for this one evening.
It will be late for Mrs. Hale. But that.
is not it. To-morrow you will—Come
back to-night, John! " She had seldom
pleaded with her son at all—she was too
proud for that: but she had never pleaded in
vain.

"I will return straight here after I have
done my business. You will be sure to
inquire after them?—after her?"

Mrs. Thornton was by no means a talkative
companion to Fanny, nor yet was she a good
listener. But her eyes and ears were keen
to see and to listen to all the details her son
could give, as to the steps he had taken to
secure himself and those whom he chose to
employ from any repetition of the day's
outrages. He clearly saw his object. Punishment
and suffering, were the natural consequences
to those who had taken part in the riot. All
that was necessary, in order that property
should be protected, and that the will of the
proprietor might cut to his end, clean and
sharp as a sword.

"Mother! You know what I have got to
say to Miss Hale, to-morrow?''

The question came upon her suddenly,
during a pause in which she, at least, had
forgotten Margaret.

She looked up at him.

"Yes! I do. You can hardly do otherwise."

"Do otherwise! I don't understand you."

"I mean that, after allowing her feelings so
to overcome her, I consider you bound in
honour"

"Bound in honour," said he scornfully. "I
am afraid honour has nothing to do with it.
'Her feelings overcome her!' What feelings
do you mean?"

"Nay, John, there is no need to be angry.
Did she not rush down, and cling to you to
save you from danger?"

"She did! " said he. " But, mother,"
continued he, stopping short in his walk right in
front of her, " I dare not hope. I never was
faint-hearted before; but I cannot believe
such a creature cares for me."

"Don't be foolish, John. Such a creature!
Why she might be a duke's daughter, to hear
you speak. And what proof more would you
have, I wonder, of her caring for you? I can
believe she has had a struggle with her
aristocratic way of viewing things; but I like
her the better for seeing clearly at last. It is
a good deal for me to say," said Mrs. Thornton,
ton, smiling slowly, while the tears stood in
her eyes; " for after to-night I stand second.
It was to have you to myself, all to myself,
a few hours longer, that I begged you not to
go till to-morrow!"