"No one shall disturb you, my dear," answered Miss Tousy, weeping as she kissed her. Then the young ladies left the room, and Rita locked the door.
Ten minutes later Mr. Bays entered from Tom's room, which was immediately back of Rita's. A stairway descended from Tom's room to the back yard.
"'Here,' Replied The Girl."
Mr. Bays kissed Rita, and hastily whispered: "My great-coat, cap, and gloves are on Tom's bed. Buck is saddled in the stable. Don't ever let your mother know I did this. Good-by. I would rather die than see you marry this man and lose Dic. Don't let your mother know," and he hurried from the room.
Rita went hurriedly into Tom's room and put on the great-coat, made of coonskins, a pair of squirrel-skin gloves, and a heavy beaver cap with curtains that fell almost to her shoulders. She also drew over her shoes a pair of heavy woollen stockings; and thus arrayed, she ran down the stairway to the back yard. Flurrying to the stable, she led out "Old Buck," Mr. Bays's riding horse, and galloped forth in the dark, cold night for a twenty-six mile ride to Billy Little.
Soon after Rita's departure the guests began to assemble. At ten minutes before eight came Williams. Upon his arrival, Mrs. Bays insisted that Rita should be called, so she and Miss Tousy went to Rita's door and knocked. The knock was repeated; still no answer. Then Mrs. Bays determined to enter Rita's room through Tom's,—and I will draw a veil over the scene of consternation, confusion, and rage that ensued.
Near the hour of two o'clock in the morning another scene of this drama was enacted, twenty-six miles away. Billy Little was roused from his dreams—black nightmares they had been—by a knocking on his store door, and when he sat up in bed to listen, he heard Rita's voice calling:—