"It is I, uncle," panted Mildred, bursting into hysterical sobs.
"You, Mildred!" he exclaimed in utter astonishment as he recognized the voice. "Why, child, what on earth are you doing here at this time of night? All in the dark too. What has gone wrong? are you sick?"
Solon had struck a match and succeeded in lighting the hall lamp, and with Mr. Dinsmore's last question its rays fell full upon Mildred's face, showing it pale, agitated, and with eyes brimming with tears.
"Why, you are as white as a sheet!" he exclaimed, laying his hand affectionately on her shoulder. "Child, child, what is the matter?"
In a few rapid, rather incoherent sentences, she gave him an inkling of the state of affairs; to which he returned a volley of questions, and without waiting for an answer to any of them, "Out into the shrubbery, Solon," he commanded, "call Ajax and Pomp, to help; catch the rascal if you can, and bring him to me."
Then to Mildred, repeating his queries, "Where is Juliet!" he asked. "Where is Miss Worth? How does she come to know about the villain or his plot to carry off Juliet? what is he to her?"
"I don't know, sir, what he is to her," said Mildred, "but she says she has known him all his life, and a letter she received to-day told her of his marriage; that he has a living wife."
"He has? the scoundrel!" cried her listener.
"Yes sir; and of course, on learning that, Miss Worth was more than ever determined to frustrate his plans."
"Well, what more, and where is this precious fool of a Juliet? I wish all girls were blessed with your common sense, child."