y," said her mother; "it is not seemly for a young girl to
talk so."

"Seemly!" said Dorothy. "If I were a man I would bring him to justice,
and it took me a lifetime. Nay, if I were a man and could use a sword--"

"Dorothy! Dorothy!" interrupted Mrs. Manners.

Dorothy sat down, the light lingering in her eyes. She had revealed more
of herself in that instant than in all her life before.

"It is a grave charge, Richard," said Mrs. Manners, at length. "And your
uncle is a man of the best standing in Annapolis."

"You must remember his behaviour before my mother's marriage, Mrs.
Manners."

"I do, I do, Richard," she said sadly. "And I have never trusted him
since. I suppose you are not making your accusation without cause?"

"I have cause enough," I answered bitterly.

"And proof?" she added. She should have been the man in her family.

I told her how Harvey had overheard the bits of the plot at Carvel Hall
near two years gone; and now that I had begun, I was going through with
Mr. Allen's part in the conspiracy, when Dorothy startled us both by
crying:

"Oh, there is so much wickedness in the world, I wish I had never been
born!"

She flung herself from the room in a passion of tears to shock me.
As if in answer to my troubled look, Mrs. Manners said, with a sigh:

"She has not been at all well, lately, Richard. I fear the gayety of
this place is too much for her. Indeed, I am sorry we ever left
Maryland."

I was greatly disturbed, and thought involuntarily of Comyn's words.
Could it be that Mr. Manners was forcing her to marry Chartersea?

"And has Mr. Lloyd said nothing of my uncle?" I asked after a while.

"I will not deny that ugly rumours are afloat," she answered. "Grafton,
as you know, is not liked in Annapolis, especially by the Patriot party.
But there is not the slightest ground for suspicion. The messenger--"

"Yes?"

"Your uncle denies all knowledge of. He was taken to be the tool of the
captain of the slaver, and he disappeared so completely that it was
supposed he had escaped to the ship. The story goes that you were seized
for a ransom, and killed in the struggle. Your black ran all the way to
town, crying the news to those he met on the Circle and in West Street,
but by the mercy of God he was stopped by Mr. Swain and some others
before he had reached your grandfather. In ten minutes a score of men
were galloping out of the Town Gate, Mr. Lloyd and Mr. Singleton ahead.
They found your