has no power to separate us.”

But still she sat staring into his hated face with eyes full of horror and detestation.

“Heaven help me!” she moaned under her breath.

He laughed a hard, sneering laugh.

“Heaven will not help you,” he cried; “there is no help for you. Back, Rosamond Arleigh!” for she had sprung lightly forward, as though to leap from the carriage. “Back, I say, or I will have your life!”

With a swift movement he pushed her back into the vehicle, closed its door, and sprung upon the box. A moment later they were flying onward through the dusky shadows—the dark hour which comes just before day. It was a dark hour to poor Rosamond Arleigh. She crouched down once more among the cushions and gave herself up to bitter reflections. Surely Heaven had[Pg 76] turned a deaf ear upon her, and would not hear or heed her prayers. She was lost—lost! An awful horror seized her. What would become of her? Where would he take her? What would be her fate? She closed her eyes as a deadly faintness stole over her and weakened her heart and paralyzed her brain. Lost, lost! No hope for her now. Heaven had forsaken her; she was in Gilbert Warrington’s power. A dull apathy began to steal over her and deprive her of reason. But the thought of her innocent child left to the machinations of this villain aroused her, and in a moment her mind was made up.

[Pg 76]

“I will make one bold stroke for freedom, though I perish in the attempt,” she said, resolutely.

The carriage was going at a furious pace. Close by was a deep, dark stream brawling onward amid fallen trees and débris, between high, steep banks. Rosamond remembered it, and knew that they were obliged to slacken pace to cross the narrow bridge which spanned the stream further on. They reached the bridge. She opened the carriage door softly, and made a swift, mad leap out and downward. As she touched the steep bank of the stream, the soft, sandy earth crumbled and gave way. Down she went—down to the swift, swirling flood below, followed by a shower of dislodged earth and stones! Down, down! And the carriage crossed the bridge and dashed on.

[Pg 77]

[Pg 77]

CHAPTER X.

The steep bank of 

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