The hour was now that of dusk. A clear air favoured the of the stars.  
"There will be just light enough to show me the way home," said Miss Keeldar, as she prepared to take leave of Caroline at the rectory garden door.
 
"You must not go alone, Shirley; Fanny shall accompany you."
 
"That she shall not. Of what need I be afraid in my own parish? I would walk from Fieldhead to the church any fine midsummer night, three hours later than this, for the pleasure of seeing the stars and the chance of meeting a fairy."
 
"But just wait till the crowd is cleared away."
 
"Agreed. There are the five Misses Armitage streaming by. Here comes Mrs. Sykes's phaeton, Mr. Wynne's close carriage, Mrs. Birtwhistle's car. I don't wish to go through the ceremony of bidding them all good-bye, so we will step into the garden and take shelter amongst the laburnums for an instant."
 
The rectors, their curates, and their churchwardens now issued from the church porch. There was a great confabulation, shaking of hands, congratulation on speeches, recommendation to be careful of the night air, etc. By degrees the , the carriages drove off. Miss Keeldar was just emerging from her flowery refuge when Mr. Helstone entered the garden and met her.
 
"Oh, I want you!" he said. "I was afraid you were already gone.—Caroline, come here."
 
Caroline came, expecting, as Shirley did, a lecture on not having been visible at church. Other subjects, however, occupied the rector's mind.
 
"I shall not sleep at home to-night," he continued. "I have just met with an old friend, and promised to accompany291 him. I shall return probably about noon to-morrow. Thomas, the clerk, is engaged, and I cannot get him to sleep in the house, as I usually do when I am absent for a night. Now——"
 
"Now," interrupted Shirley, "you want me as a gentleman—the first gentleman in Briarfield, in short—to supply your place, be master of the rectory and of your niece and maids while you are away?"
 
"Exactly, captain. I thought the post would suit you. Will you favour Caroline so far as to be her guest for one night? Will you stay here instead of going back to Fieldhead?"
 
"And what will Mrs. Pryor do? she expects me home."
 
"I will send her word. Come, make up your mind to stay. It grows late; the dew falls heavily. You and Caroline will enjoy each other's society, I doubt not."
 
"I promise you, then, to stay with Caroline," replied Shirley. "As you say, we shall enjoy each other's society. We will not be separated to-night. Now, rejoin your old friend, and fear nothing for us."
 
"If there should chance to be any in the night, captain; if you should hear the picking of a lock, the cutting out of a of glass, a stealthy tread of steps about the house (and I need not fear to tell you, who bear a well-tempered, heart under your girl's ribbon sash, that such little incidents are very possible in the present time), what would you do?"
 
"Don't know; faint, perhaps—fall down, and have to be picked up again. But, doctor, if you assign me the post of honour, you must give me arms. What weapons are there in your stronghold?"
 
"You could not a sword?"
 
"No; I could manage the carving-knife better."
 
"You will find a good one in the dining-room sideboard—a lady's knife, light to handle, and as sharp-pointed as a poniard."
 
"It will suit Caroline. But you must give me a of pistols. I know you have pistols."
 
"I have two pairs. One pair I can place at your disposal. You will find them suspended over the mantelpiece of my study in cloth cases."
 
"Loaded?"
 
"Yes, but not on the cock. Cock them before you go to bed. It is paying you a great compliment, captain, to292 lend you these. Were you one of the awkward you should not have them."
 
"I will take care. You need delay no longer, Mr. Helstone. You may go now.—He is gracious to me to lend me his pistols," she remarked, as the rector passed out at the garden gate. "But come, Lina," she continued, "let us go in and have some supper. I was too much at tea with the vicinage of Mr. Sam Wynne to be able to eat, and now I am really hungry."
 
Entering the house, they repaired to the darkened dining-room, through the open windows of which apartment stole the evening air, bearing the perfume of flowers from the garden, the very distant sound of far-retreating steps from the road, and a soft, vague whose origin Caroline explained by the remark, uttered as she stood listening at the , "Shirley, I hear the beck in the Hollow."
 
Then she rang the bell, asked for a candle and some bread and milk—Miss Keeldar's usual supper and her own. Fanny, when she brought in the tray, would have closed the windows and the , but was requested to desist for the present. The was too calm, its breath too balmy to be yet excluded. They took their meal in silence. Caroline rose once to remove to the window-sill a glass of flowers which stood on the sideboard, the exhalation from the blossoms being somewhat too powerful for the sultry room. In returning she half opened a drawer, and took from it something that glittered clear and keen in her hand.
 
"You assigned this to me, then, Shirley, did you? It is bright, keen-edged, finely ; it is dangerous-looking. I never yet felt the impulse which could move me to direct this against a fellow-creature. It is difficult to fancy that circumstances could nerve my arm to strike home with this long knife."
 
"I should hate to do it," replied Shirley, "but I think I could do it, if by certain which I can imagine." And Miss Keeldar quietly her glass of new milk, looking somewhat thoughtful and a little pale; though, indeed, when did she not look pale? She was never florid.
 
The milk sipped and the bread eaten, Fanny was again summoned. She and Eliza were recommended to go to bed, which they were quite willing to do, being weary of the day's , of much cutting of currant-buns, and filling of and teapots, and running and293 forwards with trays. Ere long the maids' door was heard to close. Caroline took a candle and went quietly all over the house, seeing that every window was fast and every door barred. She did not even the haunted back kitchen nor the vault-like cellars. These visited, she returned.
 
"There is neither spirit nor flesh in the house at present," she said, "which should not be there. It is now near eleven o'clock, bedtime; yet I would rather sit up a little longer, if you do not object, Shirley. Here," she continued, "I have brought the brace of pistols from my uncle's study. You may examine them at your leisure."
 
She placed them on the table before her friend.
 
"Why would you rather sit up longer?" asked Miss Keeldar, taking up the firearms, examining them, and again laying them down.
 
"Because I have a strange, excited feeling in my heart."
 
"So have I."
 
"Is this state of and restlessness caused by something electrical in the air, I wonder?"
 
"No; the sky is clear, the stars numberless. It is a fine night."
 
"But very still. I hear the water over its bed in Hollow's Copse as distinctly as if it ran below the churchyard wall."
 
"I am glad it is so still a night. A moaning wind or rushing rain would me to fever just now."
 
"Why, Shirley?"
 
"Because it would baffle my efforts to listen."
 
"Do you listen towards the Hollow?"
 
"Yes; it is the only quarter whence we can hear a sound just now."
 
"The only one, Shirley."
 
They both sat near the window, and both leaned their arms on the sill, and both inclined their heads towards the open lattice. They saw each other's young faces by the starlight and that dim June twilight which does not wholly fade from the west till dawn begins to break in the east.
 
"Mr. Helstone thinks we have no idea which way he is gone," murmured Miss Keeldar, "nor on what errand, nor with what expectations, nor how prepared. But I guess much; do not you?"
 
"I guess something."
 
"All those gentlemen—your cousin Moore included—think294 that you and I are now asleep in our beds, unconscious."
 
"Caring nothing about them—hoping and fearing nothing for them," added Caroline.
 
Both kept silent for full half an hour. The night was silent too; only the church clock measured its course by quarters. Some words were interchanged about the chill of the air. They wrapped their scarves closer round them, resumed their , which they had removed, and again watched.
 
Towards midnight the teasing, bark of the house-dog disturbed the quietude of their vigil. Caroline rose, and made her way noiselessly through the dark passages to the kitchen, intending to him with a piece of bread. She succeeded. On returning to the dining-room she found it all dark, Miss Keeldar having extinguished the candle. The outline of her shape was visible near the still open window, leaning out. Miss Helstone asked no questions; she stole to her side. The dog recommenced barking furiously. Suddenly he stopped, and seemed to listen. The occupants of the dining-room listened too, and not merely now to the flow of the mill-stream. There was a nearer, though a , sound on the road below the churchyard—a measured, beating, approaching sound—a dull tramp of marching feet.
 
It drew near. Those who listened by degrees comprehended its extent. It was not the tread of two, nor of a dozen, nor of a score of men; it was the tread of hundreds. They could see nothing; the high of the garden formed a leafy screen between them and the road. To hear, however, was not enough, and this they felt as the troop trod forwards, and seemed actually passing the rectory. They felt it more when a human voice—though that voice but one word—broke the of the night.
 
"Halt!"
 
A halt followed. The march was arrested. Then came a low conference, of which no word was distinguishable from the dining-room.
 
"We must hear this," said Shirley.
 
She turned, took her pistols from the table, silently passed out through the middle window of the dining-room, which was, in fact, a glass door, stole down the walk to the garden wall, and stood listening under the lilacs.295 Caroline would not have quitted the house had she been alone, but where Shirley went she would go. She glanced at the weapon on the sideboard, but left it behind her, and presently stood at her friend's side. They dared not look over the wall, for fear of being seen; they were obliged to behind it. They heard these words,—
 
"It looks a old building. Who lives in it besides the damned parson?"
 
"Only three women—his niece and two servants."
 
"Do you know where they sleep?"
 
"The lasses behind; the niece in a front room."
 
"And Helstone?"
 
"Yonder is his chamber. He was burning a light, but I see none now."
 
"Where would you get in?"
 
"If I were ordered to do his job—and he desarves it—I'd try yond' long window; it opens to the dining-room. I could grope my way upstairs, and I know his chamber."
 
"How would you manage about the women folk?"
 
"Let 'em alone except they , and then I'd soon quieten 'em. I could wish to find the old chap asleep. If he waked, he'd be dangerous."
 
"Has he arms?"
 
"Firearms, allus—and allus loadened."
 
"Then you're a fool to stop us here. A shot would give the alarm. Moore would be on us before we could turn round. We should miss our main object."
 
"You might go on, I tell you. I'd engage Helstone alone."
 
A pause. One of the party dropped some weapon, which rang on the stone causeway. At this sound the rectory dog barked again furiously—fiercely.
 
"That spoils all!" said the voice. "He'll awake. A noise like that might rouse the dead. You did not say there was a dog. Damn you! Forward!"
 
Forward they went—tramp, tramp—with , manifold, slow-filing tread. They were gone.
 
Shirley stood , looked over the wall, along the road.
 
"Not a soul remains," she said.
 
She stood and . "Thank God!" was the next observation.
 
Caroline repeated the ejaculation—not in so steady a tone. She was trembling much. Her heart was beating fast and thick; her face was cold, her forehead damp.
 
296"Thank God for us!" she . "But what will happen elsewhere? They have passed us by that they may make sure of others."
 
"They have done well," returned Shirley, with composure. "The others will defend themselves. They can do it. They are prepared for them. With us it is otherwise. My finger was on the trigger of this pistol. I was quite ready to give that man, if he had entered, such a greeting as he little calculated on; but behind him followed three hundred. I had neither three hundred hands nor three hundred weapons. I could not have effectually protected either you, myself, or the two poor women asleep under that roof. Therefore I again earnestly thank God for insult and escaped."
 
After a second pause she continued: "What is it my duty and wisdom to do next? Not to stay here inactive, I am glad to say, but, of course, to walk over to the Hollow."
 
"To the Hollow, Shirley?"
 
"To the Hollow. Will you go with me?"
 
"Where those men are gone?"
 
"They have taken the highway; we should not encounter them. The road over the fields is as safe, silent, and as a path through the air would be. Will you go?"
 
"Yes," was the answer, given mechanically, not because the speaker wished or was prepared to go, or, indeed, was otherwise than scared at the of going, but because she felt she could not abandon Shirley.
 
"Then we must fasten up these windows, and leave all as secure as we can behind us. Do you know what we are going for, Cary?"
 
"Yes—no—because you wish it."
 
"Is that all? And are you so obedient to a mere caprice of mine? What a wife you would make to a stern husband! The moon's face is not whiter than yours at this moment, and the aspen at the gate does not tremble more than your busy fingers; and so, and terror-struck, and dismayed and , you would follow me into the thick of real danger! Cary, let me give your a . We are going for Moore's sake—to see if we can be of use to him, to make an effort to warn him of what is coming."
 
"To be sure! I am a blind, weak fool, and you are297 acute and sensible, Shirley. I will go with you; I will gladly go with you!"
 
"I do not doubt it. You would die blindly and for me, but you would intelligently and gladly die for Moore. But, in truth, there is no question of death to-night; we run no risk at all."
 
Caroline rapidly closed and lattice. "Do not fear that I shall not have breath to run as fast as you can possibly run, Shirley. Take my hand. Let us go straight across the fields."
 
"But you cannot climb walls?"
 
"To-night I can."
 
"You are afraid of hedges, and the beck which we shall be forced to cross?"
 
"I can cross it."
 
They started; they ran. Many a wall checked but did not baffle them. Shirley was surefooted and ; she could spring like a deer when she chose. Caroline, more timid and less , fell once or twice, and herself; but she rose again directly, saying she was not hurt. A quickset hedge bounded the last field; they lost time in seeking a gap in it. The , when found, was narrow, but they worked their way through. The long hair, the tender skin, the silks and the muslins suffered; but what was chiefly regretted was the impediment this difficulty had caused to speed. On the other side they met the beck, flowing deep in a rough bed. At this point a narrow formed the only bridge across it. Shirley had trodden the plank successfully and fearlessly many a time before; Caroline had never yet dared to risk the .
 
"I will carry you across," said Miss Keeldar. "You are light, and I am not weak. Let me try."
 
"If I fall in, you may fish me out," was the answer, as a grateful squeeze compressed her hand. Caroline, without pausing, trod forward on the trembling plank as if it were a continuation of the firm turf. Shirley, who followed, did not cross it more or safely. In their present humour, on their present errand, a strong and channel would have been a barrier to neither. At the moment they were above the control either of fire or water. All Stilbro' , alight and with bonfires, would not have stopped them, nor would Calder or Aire thundering in flood. Yet one sound made th............