ived.

Raby shared his curiosity, but not his anxiety. "The girl knows her
friends," said he. "She will have her cry out, you may depend; but after
that she will find her way here, and, when she has got over it a little,
I shall be sure to learn from her whether he was her lover, and where he
was when the place was blown up. A Dence never lies to a Raby."

But when nine o'clock struck, and there were no tidings of her, Raby
began to share the doctor's uneasiness, and also to be rather angry and
impatient.

"Confound the girl!" said he. "Her grandfathers have stood by mine,
in their danger and trouble, for two hundred years; and now, in her
trouble, she slinks away from me."

"Put yourself in her place," said Amboyne. "Ten to one she thinks you
are offended about her and Henry. She is afraid to come near you."

"What, when I ask her?"

"Through your stupid lazy servants, who, to save themselves trouble,
have very likely told somebody else to tell her; and we know what
comes of that process. Ten to one the invitation has either missed her
altogether, or come to her divested of all that is kind and soothing.
And remember, she is not a man. She is a poor girl, full of shame and
apprehension, and needs a gentle encouraging hand to draw her here. Do,
for once, put yourself in a woman's place--you were born of a woman."

"You are right," said Raby. "I will send down a carriage for her, with a
line in my own hand."

He did so.

At eleven the servant came back with the news that Jael Dence was not at
home. She had been seen wandering about the country, and was believed to
be wrong in her head. George, the blacksmith, and others, were gone up
to the old church after her.

"Turn out with torches, every man Jack of you, and find her," said Raby.

As for Raby and Amboyne, they sat by the fireside and conversed
together--principally about poor Mrs. Little; but the conversation was
languid.

A few minutes after midnight a terrible scream was heard. It was uttered
out of doors, yet it seemed to penetrate the very room where Raby and
Amboyne were seated. Both men started to their feet. The scream was not
repeated. They looked at each other.

"It was in my garden," said Raby; and, with some little difficulty, he
opened the window and ran out, followed by Amboyne.

They looked, but could see nothing.

But, with that death-shriek ringing in their ears, they wasted no time.
Raby waved Amboyne to the left, and himself dash