ow," said Newton, overpowered by the peculiar
complications of the case. He escaped from them for the moment in the
probable inference: "I presume he was lookin' for his daughters. Didn't
you know," he turned to Northwick, with a sort of apologetic reproach,
"lightin' matches that way in the house, here, you might set it on fire,
and you'd be sure to make people think there was somebody there,
anyhow?"

Northwick made no answer to this question, and Newton looked him
carefully over in the light of the lantern. "I swear, he's in his
stockin' feet. You look round and see if you can find his shoes,
anywhere, 'Lectra. You got the light." Newton seemed to insist upon this
because it relieved him to delegate any step in this difficult matter to
another.

His wife cast the light of her lantern about, and found the shoes by the
piazza-steps, and as Northwick appeared no more able to move than to
speak, Elbridge stooped down, and put on his shoes for him where he
stood. When he lifted himself, he stared again at Northwick, as if to
make perfectly sure of him, and then he said, with a sigh of perplexity,
"You go ahead, a little ways, 'Lectra, with the lantern. I presume we've
got to take him to 'em," and his wife, usually voluble and wilful,
silently obeyed.

"Want to see your daughters?" he asked Northwick, and at the silence
which was his only response, Newton said, "Well, I don't know as I
blame him any, for not wantin' to commit himself. You don't want to be
afraid," he added, to Northwick, "that anybody's goin' to keep you
against your will, you know."

"Well, I _guess_ not," said Mrs. Newton, finding her tongue, at last.
"If they was to double and treble the reward, I'd slap 'em in the face
first. Bring him along, Elbridge."

As Northwick no more moved than spoke, Newton took him by the arm, and
helped him down the piazza-steps and into the dark of the avenue,
tunnelled about their feet by the light of the lantern, as they led and
pushed their helpless capture toward the lodge at the avenue gate.

Northwick had heard and understood them; he did not know what secret
purpose their pretence of taking him to his children might not cover;
but he was not capable of offering any resistance, and when he reached
the cottage he sank passively on the steps. He shook in every nerve,
while Elbridge pounded on the door, till a window above was lifted, and
Adeline's frightened voice quavered out, "Who is it? What is it?"

Mrs. Ne