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After a brief pause the door gaped wide. Beyond it in
the wide hall stood Miss Arabella, a slim, virginal figure in white,
mysteriously revealed in the gleam of a single candle which she
carried.
Mr. Blood strode in followed by his distraught companion, who,
falling upon Arabella's slender bosom, surrendered herself to a
passion of tears. But he wasted no time.
"Whom have you here with you? What servants?" he demanded sharply.
The only male was James, an old negro groom.
"The very man," said Blood. "Bid him get out horses. Then away
with you to Speightstown, or even farther north, where you will be
safe. Here you are in danger - in dreadful danger."
"But I thought the fighting was over..." she was beginning, pale
and startled.
"So it is. But the deviltry's only beginning. Miss Traill will
tell you as you go. In God's name, madam, take my word for it, and
do as I bid you."
"He... he saved me," sobbed Miss Traill.
"Saved you?" Miss Bishop was aghast. "Saved you from what, Mary?"
"Let that wait," snapped Mr.


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