darted through the open doorway into the great darkened
dining-room and tried to shut the door.

But he was too close, and this time he caught her in his arms, raised
her from the carpet, to bear her to the couch that had borne her wounded
brother for so long, and there, letting her sink down, dropped upon his
knees at her feet.

The room was very dim, the electric light being only slightly raised,
but he could see her half-closed eyes and trembling lips, as she bent
over towards him now till her brow rested upon his shoulder.

"This is not death, but life," he whispered passionately. "Tell me, you
were going to escape from me?"

"Yes."

"Where were you going?"

"Abroad--Switzerland."

"When?"

"To-night."

"Yes, to-night," he said softly, "and I with you, dearest. Your slave--
yourself--one with you always. Marion, we must never part again."

"Never part again," she whispered back, as his lips sought hers. "You
have mastered. I can resist no more; take me, dearest--I am yours. But
we must go at once. At any moment they may return."

"Who may? Your brother and James Clareborough?"

"Yes. Come away."

"To the world's end with you," he whispered, but she uttered a cry and
sprang to her feet.

"What is it?" he whispered.

"Didn't you hear? Come."

She led the way quickly into the hall, and the voices her
preternaturally sharpened hearing had detected came from below.

Marion caught Chester's hand and ran with him towards the great front
door, which they had almost reached, when there was a sharp, quick
rattling sound before them and the dull movement of feet upon the stone
step.

The next moment the door was opening towards them.

Hemmed in, with peril on either hand.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

LIGHT IN DARKNESS.

As Chester turned to face what he knew must prove to be a desperate
encounter, Marion snatched at his wrist.

"Quick!" she whispered, and hurried with him through a door on their
right, which led into a library with two windows facing the street; but
the shutters were closed and the place was dimly lit by four
diamond-shaped holes cut in their top panels, each of which sent a broad
white ray across the room, to strike upon the end nearest the door, and
to avoid their light Marion led him quickly close up into one corner by
the window curtain.

They had hardly taken refuge there, to stand close together, when a hand
struck the panel a sharp pat, and gave the door, which