away; you must get a horse, and ride fast--you--you will do this!"

"Yes, of course--but how can I thank you?"

"Don't try; don't ever even think of it again. I hardly know what mad
impulse sent me here. Now I have but one thought--to hurry you away, and
get safely back myself--you will go?"

"Yes--but--"

"Not now! there is no time for explanation, promises, anything. You heard
what they said; every avenue of escape will be blocked within an hour. If
you go at once you can outride them--please, please go!"

She held out her hand, and I grasped it warmly, unable longer to war
against the pitiful appeal in her voice.

"Yes, I'll go, at once. But I take away with me a memory which will never
permit me to be satisfied until we meet again. We have been together so
short a time--"

"Had it been longer," she interrupted, "you would know me better, and
care less, perhaps. I am a sham; a cheat," a trifle of bitterness in the
tone. "You will learn all that some day, and laugh at yourself. Oh, I
know you will; so not another word, sir. I am going; then, perhaps, you
will."

There was a slight pressure of her fingers, and she had vanished so
quickly I could only stare blindly along the deserted passage. Yet, an
instant later, the peril of my predicament flashed back upon my mind, and