imb from cold and fear, she put her hand to the lock;
the key was not there. She tried the nail; there was nothing there.
Her wary gaoler had evidently carried it away with him to his room.
Would it occur to him to do the same in the case of the back door?
It was very possible that he might have overlooked it. She retraced her
steps down the passage, passed Mrs. Jorrocks' room, where the old woman
was snoring peacefully, and began to make her way as best she could
through the great rambling building.

Running along the basement floor from front to back there was a long
corridor, one side of which was pierced for windows. At the end of this
corridor was the door which she wished to reach. The moon had broken
through the fog, and pouring its light through each opening cast a
succession of silvery flickering spots upon the floor. Between each of
these bars of uncertain light was an interval of darkness. Kate stood
at the head of this corridor with her hand against the wall, awed by the
sudden sight of the moonlight and by the weird effect which was produced
by the alternate patches of shadow and brightness. As she stood there,
suddenly, with eyes distended with horror, she became aware that
something was approaching her down the corridor.

She saw it moving as a dark formless mass at the further end. It passed
through the bar of light, vanished, appeared once more, lost itself in
the darkness, emerged again. It was half-way down the passage and still
coming on. Petrified with terror, she could only wait and watch.
Nearer it came and nearer. It was gliding into the last bar of light
Immediately in front of her! It was on her! God of mercy, it was a
Dominican friar! The moon shone clear and cold upon his gaunt figure
and his sombre robes. The poor girl threw up her hands, gave one
terrible scream of horror, which rang through the old house, and sank
senseless to the ground.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

A CHASE AND A BRAWL.

It would be impossible to describe the suspense in which Tom Dimsdale
lived during these weeks. In vain he tried in every manner to find some
way of tracing the fugitives. He wandered aimlessly about London from
one inquiry office to another, telling his story and appealing for
assistance. He advertised in papers and cross-questioned every one who
might know anything of the matter. There were none, however, who could
help him or throw any light upon the mystery.

No one at the office