larly, and the blood began to circulate again. As her bodily powers returned, her mind began to work once more, and again anxiously she looked about her.
"What is it you want?" asked Captain Cruel.
"Where is Jamie?"
He muttered a low oath. Always Jamie. She could think of no one but that silly boy.
Then suddenly she recalled her position—in Scantlebray's house, and the wife was on the way to the cellars, would find him, release him—and though she knew that Coppinger would not suffer Obadiah to injure her, she feared, in her present weakness, a violent scene. She sat up, dropped her feet on the floor, and stretched both her hands to the smuggler.
"Oh, take me! take me from here."
"No, Judith," he answered. " You must have the doctor to see you—after that——"
"No! no! take me before he comes. He will kill me."
Coppinger laughed. He would like to see the man who would dare to lay a finger on Judith while he stood by.
Now they heard a noise from the wings of the house at the side that communicated with the dwelling by a door that Mrs. Scantlebray had left ajar. There were exclamations, oaths, a loud, angry voice, and the shrill tones of the woman mingled with the bass notes of her husband. The color that had risen to the girl's cheeks left them; she put her hands on Coppinger's breast and looking him entreatingly in the eyes, said:
"I pray you! I pray you!"
He snatched her up in his arms, drew her close to him, went to the door, cast it open with his foot, and bore her out into the rain. There stood his mare, Black Bess, with a lad holding her.
"Judith, can you ride?"
He lifted her into the saddle.
"Boy," said he, "lead on gently; I will stay her lest she fall."
Then they moved away, and saw through the sheet of falling rain the lighted door, and Scantlebray in it, in his shirt sleeves shaking his fists, and his wife behind him, endeavoring to draw him back by the buckle and strap of his waistcoat.
"Oh, where is Jamie? I wonder where Jamie is? " said
