alled out Lamont, as he thrust open the door and looked
out, "here's a pretty go, isn't it? Turn right around, and go back as
quickly as your horses can take us!"

"I am awfully sorry to say that I won't be able to obey your order,
sir," replied the man on the box, with a slight cough. "We've had an
accident. The horses are dead lame, and we've had a serious break-down,
and that, too, when we are over thirty miles from Newport. Confound the
luck!"

Sally had been listening to this conversation, and as the driver's words
fell on her ears, she was filled with consternation and alarm. Her
tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth, and her eyes nearly jumped from
their sockets.

Miles away from the Ocean House, and she in those white kid slippers!
How in the name of Heaven was she to get back? Jay Gardiner would return
on the midnight train, and when he found she was not there, he would
institute a search for her, and some one of the scouting party would
find her in that broken-down coach by the road-side, with Victor Lamont
as her companion.

She dared not think what would happen then. Perhaps there would be a
duel; perhaps, in his anger, Jay Gardiner might turn his weapon upon
herself. And she sobbed out in still wilder affright as she pictured the
scene in her mind.

"There is but one thing to be done. You will have to ride one of your
horses back to Newport, and bring out a team to fetch us back," declared
Victor Lamont, with well-simulated impatience and anger.

"That I could do, sir," replied the man, "and you and the lady could
make yourselves as comfortable as possible in the coach."

"Bring back some vehicle to get us into Newport before midnight, and
I'll give you the price of your horse," cried Victor Lamont in an
apparently eager voice.

"All right, sir," replied the driver. "I'll do my best."

And in a trice he was off, as Sally supposed, on his mission. She had
listened, with chattering teeth, to all that had been said.

"Oh, goodness gracious! Mr. Lamont," she asked, "why are you peering out
of the coach window? Do you see--or hear--anybody?"

He did not attempt to take her hand or talk sentimental nonsense to her
now. That was not part of the business he had before him.

"Do not be unnecessarily frightened," he murmured; "but I fancied--mind,
I only say fancied--that I heard cautious footsteps creeping over the
fallen leaves. Perhaps it was a rabbit, you know--a stray dog, or
mischievous squirre