rk and fidge juist to watch her.
But, for your dance, Elsie lassie. Gin ye be a wise bairn and dance it
bonnie, Jeremy will gie ye, no the half o' his kingdom, but the hale!
Ay, Jeremy's kingdom a' complete!"

And again he slapped his pocket into which he had slipped the fat
pocket-book.

He was gone. Elsie waited one palpitating minute after he had locked
the door. She could hear the sound of his feet descending the stairs.
They died away. She listened yet a while longer, lest, with maniac
cunning, he should return for the purpose of catching her in the act of
disobedience. But the heavy clanging of a door and the screech of the
great key in the lock warned her that it must be now or never.

Elsie flew to the door of the weaving-room. She would find Mr.
Stennis. She would throw herself upon his mercy. She did not
believe--she could not believe that he knew anything of the treatment
she had undergone during the past months.

"Grandfather, grandfather!" she whispered hoarsely, knocking on the
panel. "Open, it is I--Elsie Stennis! Save me, save me!"

But there was no reply--only silence, and the scurry of a rat behind
the wainscot.

She called again, louder than before.

"Grandfather, grandfather! Quick; he will come back! Save me,
grandfather!"

But there was utter silence. Even the rat had found a shelter.

Swiftly Elsie stooped. The doors of the old houses of the date of Deep
Moat Grange have roomy keyholes. Elsie set her eye to the one which
she found empty of a key.

She saw the most part of a bare room--at least, the illuminated square
about the room. She saw her grandfather, his head bowed upon his
work--his frame still with the stillness of death, and the knife which
had done its deadly work lying close by. At his elbow a candle was
flickering itself out. Something dripped, and on the floor a darker
darkness spread itself slowly out. Even as she looked, the flame
rushed upward, like the life of a man which returns not to his
nostrils, and all was blank about her.

Elsie would have fainted, but she heard steps on the stair--swift and
light--the footsteps of Jeremy returning, and she knew that she must
meet him with the smile upon her lips.

CHAPTER XXX

HOW ELSIE DANCED FOR HER LIFE

The white and gold walls of the drawing-room of Deep Moat Grange,
though tarnished by time, and with spots of mould beginning to outline
themselves again for want of Aphra Orrin's careful han