suringly. "Why will you not have confidence in me?" he
asked. "You have not the strength to travel all night--over a rough
road--after such a trying day. For your own sake, I beg you to give up
the idea. Here you are perfectly safe and may rest undisturbed."

"Please call the horses at once!"

An impatient expression furrowed his brow. He had relied on easily
prevailing upon her through her gratitude; continuing in his
disinterested role for yet some time; resuming the journey on the
morrow, carrying her farther away under pretext of mistaking the road,
until--Here his plans had faded into a vague perspective, dominated by
unreasoning self-confidence and egotism.

But her words threatened a rupture at the outset that would seriously
alter the status of the adventure.

"It is a mistake to go on to-night," he said, with a dissenting
gesture. "However, if you are determined--" And Mauville stepped to
the window. "Why, the carriage is not there!" he exclaimed, looking
out.

"Not there!" she repeated, incredulously. "You told them to change the
horses. Why--"

"I don't understand," returned the land baron, with an effort to make
his voice surprised and concerned. "He may--Hello-a, there!
You!--Oly-koeks!" he called out, interrupting his own explanation.

Not Oly-koeks, but the driver's face, appeared from behind the barn
door, and, gazing through the window, the young girl, with a start,
suddenly realized that she had seen him not for the first time that
day--but where?--when? Through the growing perplexity of her thoughts
she heard the voice of her companion

"Why don't you hitch up the grays?"

"There are no horses in the barn," came the answer.

"Strange, the care-taker did not tell me they had been taken away!"
commented the other, hastily, stepping from the window as the driver
vanished once more into the barn. "I am sorry, but there seems no
alternative but to wait--at least, until I can send for others."

She continued to gaze toward the door through which the man had
disappeared. She could place him now, although his livery had been
discarded for shabby clothes; she recalled him distinctly in spite of
this changed appearance.

"Why not make the best of it?" said Mauville, softly, but with glance
sparkling in spite of himself. "After all, are you not giving yourself
needless apprehensions? You are at home here. Anything you wish shall
be yours. Consider yourself mistress; me, one of your servants!"

A