WYLDER'S HAjYD.
405
'- Here, Reuben, here; where the devil have you been
— take him away. He has terrified her. By — he ought
to be shot."
The keeper silently slid his arm into Uncle Lome's, and,
unresisting, the old man talking to himself the while, drew
him from the room.
Larcom, about to announce Miss Lake, and closely fol-
lowed by that young lady, passed the grim old phantom
on the lobby.
"Be quick, you are wanted there," said the attendant,
as he passed.
Dorcas, pale as marble, sighing deeply again and again,
her rich black hair drenched in water, which trickled over
her cheeks, like the tears and moisture of agony, was re-
covering. There was water spilt on the table, and the
fragments of a broken glass upon the floor.
The moment Rachel saw her, she divined what had hap-
pened and, gliding over, she placed her arm round her.
"You're better, darling. Open the window, Stanley.
Send her maid."
"Aye, send her maid," cried Captain Lake to Larcom.
This is your d—d work. A nice mess you have made
of it among you."
"Are you better, Dorcas?" said Rachel.
"Yes, much better. I'm glad, darling, I understand
you now. Radie, kiss me."
Next morning, before early family prayers, while Mr.
Jos Larkin was locking the despatch box which was to
accompany him to London, Mr. Larcom arrived at the
Lodge.
He had a note for Mr. Larkin's hand, which he must
himself deliver, and so he was shown into that gentle-
man's official cabinet, and received with the usual lofty
kindness.