r peal of half-maniac laughter, she
snatched her pannier from the log, flung it over her shoulder, and
hurried away from the spot! Her words, though ill understood, were full
of fearful significance, and acted upon me like a shock--for a moment
paralysing my powers both of speech and action. In my anxiety to
ascertain their full meaning, I would have intercepted her retreat; but
before I could recover from my unpleasant surprise, she had glided in
among the shrubbery, and disappeared from my sight.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

A STORM WITHOUT AND WITHIN.

Heading my horse to the path, I rode out of the glade; but with very
different feelings from those I had on entering it. The words of this
ill-starred maiden--attainted with that sibylline cunning peculiar to
her race--had filled my heart with most dire forebodings. Her speech
could not be mere conjecture, put forth to vex and annoy me? She had
scarcely motive enough for this; besides, her display of a positive
foreknowledge was proof against the supposition, that she was deceiving
me?

"Slayer of red panthers? You may go, but only to grieve."

"Your bell-flower will be plucked and crushed like that you wear so
proudly upon your breast."

These, and other like innuendoes, could not be conjectural? However
obtained, they betokened a knowledge of the past, with an implied
forecast of the future--probable as it was painful. The "yellow fawn,"
too. The reference was clear; Lilian Holt was the yellow fawn. But the
wolf that had "slept in its lair"? Who was the wolf? Who was to make
her a victim? and how? These unpleasant interrogatives passed rapidly
through my mind, and without obtaining reply. I was unable to answer
them, even by conjecture. Enough that there _was_ a wolf; and that
Lilian Holt was in danger of becoming his victim!

This brought me to the consideration of the last words, still ringing in
my ears: "You will be too late--too late!" Prompted by their implied
meaning, I drove the spurs into my horse, and galloped forward--as fast
as the nature of the ground would permit. My mind was in dread
confusion--a chaos of doubt and fear. The half-knowledge I had obtained
was more painful to endure than a misfortune well ascertained: for I
suffered the associated agonies of suspense, and darkly outlined
suspicion. A wolf! In what shape and guise? A victim? How, and by
what means? What the nature of the predicted danger?

The elements seemed in