him; but then--she was a child and little comprehended
affairs of State. When all was over Garnet would quiet her fears, and
her father would be a hero in her eyes.

Unconsciously he drew forth his dagger and pricked with its point the
mortar between the stones of the pillar against which he leaned. With
something to occupy his mind the moments would speed faster. The
lantern, burning dimly, stands upon the floor near his side; beyond
lies the fuse, ready for the fire.

Just at this moment Elinor, having reached the door of the cellar,
paused an instant upon the threshold, then, scarce conscious of what
she was doing pushed open the unbarred portal and stepped within the
gloomy chamber. So silent was her coming that Fawkes, busy with his
dagger and the mortar, did not perceive it. The girl hesitated,
trembling in every limb; the blackness of the place, the intense
excitement under which she labored, and the fearful thought that
already the fuse might be burning, her father gone, and death so near,
held her spellbound. She saw the faint glimmer from the lantern, a
hundred tiny streaks of light glowing through the darkness. Her father
must be there beside his light, and summoning all her energies she
moves quickly forward, intent only upon accomplishing her mission.

The rustle of her garments struck upon Fawkes' ear. He turned and saw
the half open door, the dim outline of the form which stood between
him and the faint light struggling through the aperture. With a quick
indrawing of the breath he grasped the hilt of his dagger and turned
to face the advancing figure. Shall anyone thus ruin all, at the
eleventh hour? His nerves became as if made of steel, all signs of
indecision vanish; face to face with danger he becomes once more the
hardened veteran who has met unflinchingly the fierce charge of the
foemen in the Lowcountry.

Elinor at length perceived him whom she sought, and stretched out her
hands to grasp him, for the dry lips refused to frame the words her
tongue would utter.

In that moment, noting the extended arms, and thinking the other would
lay violent hands upon him, Fawkes sprang forward and seized the frail
form about the shoulders; small time to note the softness of the flesh
and the clinging woman's garments, or the low cry which answers the
grasp of his iron hand. The blackness of the place hides their faces,
and his business is to carry out the plot.

For a moment the two--father and daughter--