nd made my
heart leap in me with the terror of it. The dark deformity of the
expression which had just left her face lowered on it once more, with
doubled and trebled intensity. The shriek at the name, the reiterated
look of hatred and fear that instantly followed, told all. Not even a
last doubt now remained. Her mother was guiltless of imprisoning her
in the Asylum. A man had shut her up--and that man was Sir Percival
Glyde.

The scream had reached other ears than mine. On one side I heard the
door of the sexton's cottage open; on the other I heard the voice of
her companion, the woman in the shawl, the woman whom she had spoken of
as Mrs. Clements.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" cried the voice from behind the clump of
dwarf trees.

In a moment more Mrs. Clements hurried into view.

"Who are you?" she cried, facing me resolutely as she set her foot on
the stile. "How dare you frighten a poor helpless woman like that?"

She was at Anne Catherick's side, and had put one arm around her,
before I could answer. "What is it, my dear?" she said. "What has he
done to you?"

"Nothing," the poor creature answered. "Nothing. I'm only frightened."

Mrs. Clements turned on me with a fearless indignation, for which I
respected her.

"I should be heartily ashamed of myself if I deserved that angry look,"
I said. "But I do not deserve it. I have unfortunately startled her
without intending it. This is not the first time she has seen me. Ask
her yourself, and she will tell you that I am incapable of willingly
harming her or any woman."

I spoke distinctly, so that Anne Catherick might hear and understand
me, and I saw that the words and their meaning had reached her.

"Yes, yes," she said--"he was good to me once--he helped me----" She
whispered the rest into her friend's ear.

"Strange, indeed!" said Mrs. Clements, with a look of perplexity. "It
makes all the difference, though. I'm sorry I spoke so rough to you,
sir; but you must own that appearances looked suspicious to a stranger.
It's more my fault than yours, for humouring her whims, and letting her
be alone in such a place as this. Come, my dear--come home now."

I thought the good woman looked a little uneasy at the prospect of the
walk back, and I offered to go with them until they were both within
sight of home. Mrs. Clements thanked me civilly, and declined. She
said they were sure to meet some of the farm-labourers as soon as they
got to the