"Yes, very bright."

"And the sky is clear?"

"Clear in the south and east. There are clouds coming up from the north-west; we shall have rain to-night."

They drove on silently, until at last Fane said, in rather a hesitating tone:--

"There is a lady making signs to us to turn round to wait, sir. She is a little way behind us."

"A lady? Stop then; stop at once. Is she near? What is she like? Is she young?"

"Very young, very slight. She is close to us now," said Fane, as he checked his horse.

Rupert bent forward with a look of eager expectation. He heard a footstep on the road; surely he knew it? He knew the voice well enough as it spoke his name.

"Mr. Vivian!"

"Kitty!" he said, eagerly. Then, in a soberer tone: "I beg your pardon, Mrs. Luttrell, I have just been calling at Netherglen and heard that you were ill."

"I am not ill, but I do not see visitors," said Kitty, in a constrained voice. "I wanted to speak to you; I saw you from the garden. I thought I should never make you hear."

"Will you wait one moment until I get down from my high perch? Fane will help me; I feel rather helpless at present."

"Can you turn back with me for a few minutes?"

"Certainly."

They walked for a few steps side by side, he with his hand resting on her arm for the sake of guidance. The soft spring breezes played upon their faces; the scent of wild flowers came to their nostrils, the song of building birds to their ears. But they noted none of these things.

Vivian stopped short at last, and spoke authoritatively.

"Now, Kitty, what does this mean? Why can you not see your brother and me when we call upon you?"

"My husband does not wish it," she said, faintly.

"Why not?"

"I don't know." Then, in a more decided tone: "He likes to thwart my wishes, that is all."

"That was why you warned Angela not to answer your letter?"

"Yes." Then, under her breath:--"I was afraid."

"But, my child, what are you afraid of?"

She uttered a short, stifled sob.

"I can't tell you," she said.

"Surely," said Rupert, "he would not hurt you?"

"No," she said, "perhaps not. I do not know."

There was a dreariness in her tone which went to Rupert's heart.

"Take courage," he said. "Brian and Elizabeth will be in Dunmuir to-night. Shall they come to see you?"

"Oh, yes, yes, yes!" cried Kitty. "Let them come at once--at once, tell them. You will see them, will you not?" She had forgotten Rupert's blindness. "If they come, I shall be prevented from meeting them, perhaps; I know I shall not be allowed to talk to them alone. Tell Mr.

Luttrell to come and live at Netherglen. Tell him to turn us out. I shall be thankful to him all my life if he turns us out. I want to go!"

"You want to leave Netherglen?"

"Yes, yes, as quick as possible. Tell him that Mrs. Luttrell wants him--that she is sorry for having been so harsh to him. I know it. I can see it in her eyes. I tell her everything that I hear about him, and I know she likes it. She is pleased that he has married Elizabeth. Tell him to come to-night."

"To-night?" said Rupert. He began to fear that her troubles had affected her brain.

"Yes, to-night. Remember to tell him so. To-morrow may be too late. Now, go, go. He may come home at any moment; and if he saw you"--she caught her breath with a sob--"if he saw you here, I think that he would kill me."

"Kitty, Kitty! It cannot be so bad as this."

"Indeed, it is--and worse than you know," she said, bitterly. "Now let me lead you back. Thank you for coming. And tell Brian--be sure you tell Brian to come home to-night. It is his right, nobody can keep him out.

But not alone. Tell him not to come alone."

It was with these words ringing in his ears that Rupert was driven back to Dunmuir.

Brian and his wife arrived about nine o'clock in the evening, as they had said in the letter which Mr. Colquhoun had received. Vivian, wrought up by this time to a high pitch of excitement, did not wait five minutes before pouring the whole of his story into Brian's ear. Brian's eyes flashed, his face looked stern as he listened to Kitty's message.

"The hound!" he said. "The cur! I expected almost as much. I know now what I never dreamt of before. He is a cowardly villain, and I will expose him this very night."

"Remember poor Kitty," said Elizabeth.

"I will spare her as much as possible, but I will not spare him. Do you know, Vivian, that he tried to murder Dino Vasari? There is not a blacker villain on the face of the earth. And to think that all this time my mother has been at his mercy!"

"His mother!" ejaculated Mr. Colquhoun in Percival's ear, with a chuckle of extreme satisfaction, "I'm glad he's come back to that nomenclature.

Blood's thicker than water; and I'll stand to it, as I always have done, that this Brian's the right one after all."

"It's the only one there is, now," said Percival, "Vasari is dead."

"Poor laddie! Well, he was just too good for this wicked world," said the lawyer, with great cheerfulness, "and it would be a pity to grudge him to another. And what are you after now, Brian?"

"I'm going up to Netherglen."

"Without your dinner?"

"What do I care for dinner when my mother's life may be in danger?" said Brian.

"Tut, tut! Why should it be in danger to-night of all nights in the year?" said Mr. Colquhoun, testily.