r she left the Hall by
Dorothy's Postern. She was wrapped in her sable cloak--the one that had
saved John's life in Aunt Dorothy's room; but instead of going across the
garden to the stile where Lord Leicester was waiting, which was north and
east of the terrace, she sped southward down the terrace and did not stop
till she reached the steps which led westward to the lower garden. She
stood on the terrace till she saw a man running toward her from the
postern in the southwest corner of the lower garden. Then down the steps
she sped with winged feet, and outstretching her arms, fell upon the man's
breast, whispering: "John, my love! John, my love!"

As for the man--well, during the first minute or two he wasted no time in
speech.

When he spoke he said:--

"We must not tarry here. Horses are waiting at the south end of the
footbridge. Let us hasten away at once."

Then happened the strangest of all the strange things I have had to record
of this strange, fierce, tender, and at time almost half-savage girl.

Dorothy for months had longed for that moment. Her heart had almost burst
with joy when a new-born hope for it was suggested by the opportunities of
the ball and her father's desire touching my lord of Leicester. But now
that the longed-for moment was at hand, the tender heart, which had so
anxiously awaited it, failed, and the girl broke down weeping
hysterically.

"Oh, John, you have forgiven so many faults in me," she said between
sobs, "that I know you will forgive me when I tell you I cannot go with
you to-night. I thought I could and I so intended when I came out here to
meet you. But oh, John, my dearest love, I cannot go; I cannot go. Another
time I will go with you, John. I promise that I will go with you soon,
very soon, John; but I cannot go now, oh, I cannot. You will forgive me,
won't you, John? You will forgive me?"

"No," cried John in no uncertain tones, "I will not forgive you. I will
take you. If you cry out, I will silence you." Thereupon he rudely took
the girl in his arms and ran with her toward the garden gate near the
north end of the stone footbridge.

"John, John!" she cried in terror. But he placed his hand over her mouth
and forced her to remain silent till they were past the south wall. Then
he removed his hand and she screamed and struggled against him with all
her might. Strong as she was, her strength was no match for John's, and
her struggles were in vain.

John, with his sto