walls of the room) and pass it by. She trembled lest Oliver, hearing the tramp of his enemies' steps approaching, should attempt to make his escape by the windows, in which case he would fall straight into the hands of the detachment who were surrounding the house and searching the grounds. Yet—if they should detect and open the cupboard, and she should see him caught like a rat in a trap, dragged out to his death! There was no time for thought; the moment was imminent; in another minute the die of Oliver Desmond's fate would be cast for life or death. Yet a moment to breathe was hers. She turned to Mr. Thorne's room first.

"Allow me," said Colonel Jeff, taking the candle from her hand as she threw open the door and drew back. He stepped in past her and held up the light. His eagle eye swept the room—searched every corner; he saw there was no hiding-place there. His comrade stood back respectfully on the threshold, apparently considerate of the lady's feelings, deeming it sufficient for one to enter the room, and regarding Colonel Jeff as competent to conduct the search alone.

They came next to the spare-room, and again the Colonel was the one to enter and look carefully round. Was it not partly in his liege lady's own interests, and for her sake, he was assuring himself that no dangerous intruder lurked in her home and she might sleep in peace?

Then was the turn of Barbara's own room—the sacred temple that enshrined his treasure!

This time he had kept the candle in his hand. Barbara had made no offer to take it back; she feared the trembling of her hand might betray her. Wrought up to a pitch of suspense at which every nerve quivered like a tense chord, she yet by a desperate effort controlled her features and steadied her step, but she felt she could not keep her fingers from trembling. Colonel Jeff's comrade remained as before, standing in the open doorway, while the Colonel, accompanied by Barbara, stepped into the room.

As he strode forward she kept near him; it seemed that she could not let him move an arm's length from her. It took all her self-command to refrain from flinging herself between him and the cupboard door. Wild thoughts of appealing to his mercy shot like lightning through her brain. If only his comrade on the threshold had not been there watching! With that man looking on, the frail, frail hope would be lost if she betrayed any sign of fear or agitation.

Colonel Jeff stood casting his keen glance, around. Barbara stood like a statue, all her life in her strained eyes, as she followed his glance.

Colonel Jeff's eye fell on the cupboard door. He moved towards it. As he did so, he chanced to turn his look on Barbara's face and met her eyes. A swift and sudden change passed for a moment over his own rough-hewn features; his dark eyes blazed upon her with an instant's startled, piercing scrutiny; he set his hand on the cupboard door. And still Barbara stood paralyzed, rooted to the ground as if the unveiled horror of the Gorgon's stare had struck her to stone.

Her lips moved, but no sound came from them. In the whirl of thought that dazed her she remembered that she did not know, she had never asked, if Desmond was armed! A desperate man turns at bay, and sells his life dearly. What if Oliver had a knife or pistol clutched now, this moment, in his hand? What if he shot or stabbed Rick Jeffreys before the Colonel could draw his own weapon? There would be a moment's horror—and Rick, her own true, loyal lover, stricken down at her feet, and Oliver, whom she once had loved—was it a century ago?—dragged out and murdered before her eyes!

She felt the springs of life stop at her heart as Rick Jeffreys opened the cupboard door. He raised the flickering candle. For one terrible moment, in which Barbara tasted the bitterness of death, he stood looking in.

Then he deliberately drew back, closed the door, turned and crossed the room to his waiting comrade on the threshold. He did not cast even an instant's glance at Barbara as he passed her.

"RICK JEFFREYS OPENED THE CUPBOARD DOOR."

"Is there any loft?" he demanded, in his usual deep, harsh tone, looking around the passage as if to complete the search.

Barbara heard a voice, that seemed to her not her own, issue from her parted lips, saying, "No, there is no loft."

They saw there was not, and proceeded downstairs. She followed them with trembling limbs. She was almost fainting, but followed because she dared not stay behind. The ominous silence in which Rick Jeffreys had passed her seemed fraught with something worse than even the horror she had dreaded.

The Vigilance Committee did not waste their time, but being assured that the fugitive they sought was not lurking in or about the ranch, they promptly went on their way—the leader, before they departed, however, pausing to express his regret for any inconvenience they might have occasioned the lady by their unexpected inroad.

Colonel Jeff was the last to speak.

"I will make my apologies later," he said, as he took his leave. Barbara caught the sinister gleam of his eye as he spoke, and she knew that "later" time would be soon.

Barely an hour had passed since the tramp of the horses of the departing Vigilantes had died away into the silence of the windless night, when another knock summoned Barbara to the front door.

"I knew you would come back," she said, as the big, powerful form of Colonel Jeff towered upon the threshold, tall and dark against the background of the darkness.

"You knew me well enough for that?" he rejoined, grimly.

She closed the door, and turned towards the parlour.

"In here," she said, quietly.

He looked at her with a kind of fierce astonishment. Into his dark eyes, that seemed to burn black with smouldering fury, there leapt a flash of reluctant admiration, that shook and thrilled him with a passion more of bitter wrath than of love. Instead of being crushed with shame and humiliation, drooping in fear and beseeching, this woman faced him like a queen.

"It is not with you that I have come to speak," he said, his deep voice a trifle huskier than usual. "I have saved you from open shame and public scandal. That's enough between you and me. I've nothing more to do with you, but I've an account to settle with your lover. I deal with him first, and alone. Where is he?"

"Wait," she said, as he made a movement to turn to the door. "He is no lover of mine."

"You will tell me, I suppose," he retorted, "that he was hidden there"—he ground his teeth upon the word as if he would crush it—"without your knowledge and consent?"

"I shall not tell you that."

"No, you dare not. I saw your face. I read it in your eyes before I opened that door. You dare not tell me you did not know of his presence?"

"No, I dare tell you the truth—that I did!" she replied, meeting the fiery glance of his sombre eyes fearlessly. In the midst of his concentrated rage—and Colonel Jeff in wrath was well known to be dangerous—he could not help admiring this frail, fair, delicate woman's dauntless courage. "I had no chance of speaking to you alone," she continued, "or I would have told you—explained to you——"

"I want no explanation," he said, harshly, bitterly; "I know enough."

"'STAY!' SHE EXCLAIMED."

"Stay!" she exclaimed, lifting her fair head with a royal gesture. "That man, the man