= seated 
“N—no, no—not now!” she gasped, 
but a great wave of exaltation swept 
through her being He turned and 
walked away, too dazed to speak. 
Without knowing it, she followed with 
hesitating steps. At the edge of the 
porch he paused and looked Into the 
darkness. 
“By Jove, | must be dreaming,” she 
heard him mutter. 
“No, you are not,” she declared des- 
perately. “I am here. I ask your pro- 
tection for the night. Iam going away 
—to Hngland—tomorrow. 1 couldn’t 
stay there—I just couldn’t. I’m sorry 
I came here—I’m”— 
“Thank heaven, you did come,” he 
exclaimed, turning to her joyously. 
“You are like a fairy—the fairy prin- 
cess come true. It’s unbelievable! But 
—but what was it you said about Eng- 
land?” he concluded, suddenly sober. 
“I am go-going home. There’s no 
place else. I can’t live with her,” she 
said, a bit tremulously. 
“To England—at once? Your father 
—will he”— 
“My father? I have no father. Oh!” 
with a sudden start. Her eyes met 
his in a helpless stare. “I never 
thought. My home was at Bazelhurst 
castle—their home. I can’t go there. 
Good heavens, what am I to do?” 
CHAPTER VII. 
“They are after me!” 
ONG afterward she recalled his 
exultant exclamation, check- 
ed at its outset—recalled it with 
a perfect sense of understand- 
ing. With rare good taste he subdued 
whatever it was that might have strug- 
gled for expression and simply extend- 
ed his right hand to relieve her of the 
lantern. 
“We never have been enemies, Miss 
Drake,” he said, controlling his voice 
admirably. “But had we been so up 
to this very instant I am sure I’d sur- 
render now. I don’t know what has 
happened at the villa. It doesn’t mat- 
ter. You are here to ask my protec- 
tion and my help. I| am at your serv- 
ice, my home is yours, my right hand 
also. You are tired and wet and— 
nervous. Won’t you come inside? [’ll 
get a light in a jiffy and Mrs. Ulrich, 
my housekeeper, shall be with you as 
soon as | can rout her out. Come 
in, please.” She held back doubtfully, 
a troubled, uncertain look in her eyes. 
“You will understand, won’t you?” 
she asked simply. 
“And no questions asked,” he said 
from the doorway Still she held back, 
her gaze going involuntarily to the 
glasses on the table. He interpreted 
the look of inquiry. “There were two 
of us. The doctor was here picking 
out the shot, that’s all He's gone. It’s 
all right. Wait here and I'll get a 
light.” The flame in her lantern sud- 
denly ended its feeble life 
“Dark as Egypt, eh?” he called out 
from the opposite side of the room. 
NORTH SHORE BREEZE 
“Not as dark as the forest, Mr. 
Shaw.” 
“Good beavens, what a time you 
must have had Alj alone, were you?” 
“Of course. | was not eloping.” 
“I beg your pardon.” 
“Where were you sitting when | 
came up?” 
“Here—in the dark. 1 was waiting 
for the storm to come and dozed away, 
I daresay 1 love a storm, don’t you?” 
“Yes, if I’m indoors. Ah!” He had 
struck a match and was lighting the 
wick of a lamp beside the huge fire 
place. 
“I suppose you think I’m perfectly 
crazy. I’m horrid.” 
“Not at all. Sit down here on the 
couch, please. More cheerful, eh? 
Good Lord, listen to the wind: You 
got here just in time. Now, if you'll 
excuse me Ill have Mrs. Ulrich down 
in a minute. She’ll take good care of 
you. And I'll make you a nice hot 
drink too You need it.” In the door 
of the big living room he turned to her, 
a look of extreme doubt in his eyes. 
“By Jove, | bet I do wake up Itcan’t 
be true.” She laughed plaintively and 
shook her head in humble self abase- 
ment. “Don't be lonesome I’ll be 
back in a minute.” 
“Don’t hurry,’”’ she murmured apolo- 
getically Then she settled back limp- 
ly in the wide couch and inspected the 
room, his footsteps noisily clattering 
down the long hallway to the left. She 
saw, with some misgiving, that it was 
purely a man’s habitation Shaw 
doubtless had built and furnished the 
big cottage without woman as a con- 
sideration ‘The room was large. com 
fortable, solid. There was not a sug- 
gestion of femininity in it—high or 
low—except the general air of cleanli- 
ness. The furniture was rough hewn 
and built for use, not ornamentation. 
The walls were hung with Englisb 
prints, antlers, memeutoes of the bunt 
and the field of sport. The floor was 
covered with skins and great “carpet 
rag” rugs. The whole aspect was so 
fistinctly mannish that her heart fiut- 
tered ridiculously in its loneliness. 
Her cogitations were running serious- 
ly toward riot when he came hurriedly 
down the hall and into her presence 
“She’ll be down presently. In fact, 
so will the cook and the housemaid. 
Gad, Miss Drake, they were so afraid 
of the storm that all of them piled 
into Mrs. Ulrich’s room. I wonder at 
your courage in facing the symptoms 
outdoors. Now I'll fix you a drink. 
Take off your hat—be comfortable. 
Cigarette? Good! MHere’s my side- 
board. See? It’s a nuisance, this hav- 
Ing only one arm in commission; af- 
fects my style as a barkeep. Don’t 
stir; I’ll be able’— 
“Let me help you. I mean, please 
don’t go to so much trouble Really 
1 want nothing but a place to sleep to- 
night. This couch will do—honestly. 
And some one to call me at daybreak, 
go that I may be on my way.” He 
Yooked at her and laughed quizzically. 
“Oh, I’m in earnest. Mr Shaw. IL would 
not have stopped here if it hadn’t been 
for the storm.” 
“Come, now, Miss Drake, you spoil 
the fairy tale. You did intend to come 
here. It was the only place for you 
to go, and I’m glad of it. My only re- 
gret is that the house isn’t filled with 
chaperons.” 
“Why?” she demanded with a guilty 
start. 
“Because | could then say to you the 
things that are in my heart—aye, that 
are almost bursting from my lips. I—1 
can’t say them now, you know,” he 
said, and she understood his delicacy. 
For some minutes she sat in silence. 
watching him as he clumsily mixed the 
drinks and put the water over the al- 
cohol blaze. Suddenly he turned to her 
with something like alarm in his voice. 
“By George, vou don’t suppose they’ll 
pursue you?" 
“Oh, wouldn’t that be jolly? It would 
be like the real story book—the fairy 
and the ogres and all that. But.” du- 
biously, “I’m sorely afraid they consid- 
er me rubbish. Still’—looking up en- 
couragingly--““my brother would try to 
find me if he—if he knew that I was 
gone.” 
To her surprise, he whistled soffly 
and permitted a frown of anxiety to 
creep over his face “TI hadn’t thought 
of that.”’ he observed reflectively. ‘Then 
he seemed to throw off the momentary 
symptoms of uneasiness, adding, with 
a laugh: “I daresay nothing will hap- 
pen. The storm would put a stop to all 
idea of pursuit.” 
“Let them pursue,” she said, a stub- 
born light in her eyes “I am my own 
mistress, Mr. Shaw. They ean’t take 
me, willy nilly. as if 1 were a child, 
you know.” 
“That’s quite true 
stand,” 
her. 
“You mean the law? 
from ours?” 
“Not that. ‘he—er—situation You 
see, they might think it a trifle odd if 
they found you here—with me Don’t 
You don’t under- 
he said slowly. his back to 
Is it different 
you understand?” de turned to her 
with a very serious expression. She 
started and sat bolt upright to stare at 
him comprehensively 
“You mean—it—it isn’t quite—er’— 
“Regular perhaps.” he supplied. 
“Please keep your seat. I’m not the 
censor I’m not even an opinion. Be 
lieve me, Miss Drake, my only thought 
was and is for your good.” 
“IT see They would believe evil of 
me if they knew I bad come to you,” 
she mused, turning quite cold. 
“I know the kind of people your sis 
ter-in-law hus at her place, Miss Drake. 
Their sort can see but one motive in 
anything. You know them, too, I dare 
say.” 
[To BE CONTINUED.] 
