Mr. Norcot and his kinsman, the clergyman, were walking together upon a broad terrace before the wool-stapler\'s dwelling-house. They had dined, and now they smoked their pipes out of doors, for the spring night was mild and clear.

Not twenty yards distant, behind the lattice of a little summer-house, a man lay concealed; and it chanced that both speakers came within earshot of him, for the minister, feeling his dinner, proposed to enter the summer-house and sit down there awhile.

"\'Tis your port wine," he said. "What has a poor priest to do with such liquor?"

"He shall have much to do with it, and be a poor priest no more after to-morrow."

They sat down within two yards of John Lee. Convinced that Grace must be hidden here in Norcot\'s house, John was endeavouring to learn her apartment, that when nightfall came he might communicate with her. Through four-and-twenty hours, since his last interview with Cecil Stark, he had toiled without success to find her; to-night he was determined to succeed, for early on the morrow the wedding would take place, if Stark spoke the truth.

And now kindly chance threw to him information more valuable than the hiding-place of Grace Malherb. A wedding, indeed, was to be celebrated; but Peter Norcot, not the American, would be bridegroom.

The first words that fell upon Lee\'s ear were spoken by the clergyman.

"\'Tis a very subtle piece of work; a wonderful stroke; yet I wish you had broke it to any man but me, Peter."

"My dear Relton, you\'re not in an after-dinner humour. \'Twas not that you drank too much port, but too little. I\'ve a hundred dozen of that vintage—put down by a loving father thirty years ago. Well, how like you the thought of five-and-twenty dozen? \'Tis emphatically a clergyman\'s wine. What potential tone—what tolerance—what breadth of view—what a fine literary flavour to your discourses all lie there!"

"To do evil that good may come—a parlous doctrine."

"Most true. I\'ll go further and say a damnable doctrine. I\'m asking you to attempt no such thing. You are invited to marry me to a woman in the dark—a literal, not a spiritual darkness. She refuses to marry me in the daylight; therefore it is proposed to put this trick upon her for her own welfare. The young fellow from Prince Town comes to help us with his presence. He is sent, as the ram was sent to save Isaac\'s life. But I do not sacrifice him: I merely send him back whence he came. This girl of ours thinks that she loves him; and she believes that she will marry him to-morrow. Well, you know better."

"My part is a dastard\'s part."

"What? To say \'Cecil Stark\' in the marriage service when you mean \'Peter Norcot\'! What nonsense! As soon as the daylight bursts in upon our little ceremony, you have only to forget your error."

"I fear the issue."

"Then you fear a handsome income—a sum which to a man of your abilities and ambitions should mean power. By assisting at this pious fraud, you assure the welfare of a good but headstrong girl, and you oblige me. From being a penniless parson you rise to wealth and dignity. You——"

"What of Cecil Stark?"

"Mr. Stark broke prison very improperly, and to-morrow morning, as he quits the matrimonial chamber, a file of soldiers will be waiting to take him back again. His subsequent story of a cock and bull no one will heed. Leave that. Have you the service by heart? \'Tis a great feat."

"I know it well enough."

"There can be no prompting, recollect. The darkness of Egypt was light compared to the darkness in my study to-morrow. The grave is not darker. Both he and she are prepared for that. She thinks that his eyes suffered in an explosion of gunpowder at Prince Town; he believes that she was seriously injured while coming here. By a closely shrouded way they enter the room. Gertrude will bring Grace; I follow with Stark. You are already there to meet us. In the pitchy dark I hold Grace\'s hand and stand beside her; Stark holds Gertrude\'s hand and thinks that she is Grace. You\'ll do your part as fast as may be. Then Stark, believing himself married, comes out into the daylight with me, and is packed off to Prince Town in a jiffy, while, soon afterwards, Grace and I bowl off to Exeter in a barouche and four. She will think I am taking her home; and then for the first time she will learn that she is my wife."

"May it so fall out!"

"It cannot fail. I\'ve forgot nothing. There are, of course, a thousand minor problems and subordinate possibilities; but all have been provided for."

"You and your wife vanish; Stark returns to prison; and I am left. How if an infuriated father comes to challenge me?"

"Tut, tut! You are too poor a thing for this business. Well, what then? You have but to say that at my desire you conducted a legal and proper service; you have but to show the marriage license that I leave behind me. You speak of a straight-forward wedding in honest daylight, and the bride willing. Concerning Cecil Stark you know nothing. Gertrude and my man, Mason, the other witness, substantiate you; and soon there will come a dutiful letter from Grace——"

"You believe that?"

"Once married all is well. The honeymoon will throw a genial light upon duty. She forgives me in a week and even begins to understand me. There\'s only one cloud: I couldn\'t get what I wanted out of old Lovey—a certain amphora. She\'s much too clever for me. Your pipe is out."

John Lee had heard every syllable of this conversation; and he had forgotten himself so completely that now, dead to danger, he was as close to the speakers as he could get, with his face pressed to the lattice of the summer-house. Suddenly Relton Norcot struck a light, and before Lee could duck his head the flame had touched his eyes and revealed him. Peter was quick, but the other man had the advantage. There was a crash in the shrubbery, then a figure broke cover, sped into the grass-lands below, and vanished.

"We are undone!" cried the clergyman. "I knew this could not come to good. Oh, Peter, my reputation!"

"Peace, you silly sheep, this is no time for babble! All\'s yet well. I marked the man and know him. \'Tis the gipsy, John Lee, and I can deal with him. The problem\'s simple. He runs to get at Stark; but that can be prevented."

"For God\'s sake, let us go in. I\'m struck with an ague."

"That such a worm should have power to wield the sacraments of God! Come you in, and hasten to my sister. Bid Gertrude summon Mason and go down to the factory at once. Grace Malherb must be under this roof as quickly as possible. Let them fetch her now. I cannot trust her there longer, with that rogue on the ............