CHAPTER XV.
THE MAN IN THE MASK.
Dizzily Mollie opened her eyes. Confused, bewildered, she strove to sit up and catch her breath in broken gasps.
"So sorry, Mollie," said an odious voice in her ear. "Quite shocked, I am sure, to have you faint; but you've not been insensible half an hour. It wasn't my fault, you know. You would scream, you would struggle, you would exhaust yourself! And what is the consequence of all this excitement? Why, you pop over in a dead swoon."
Mollie raised herself up, still dazed and confused. She put her hand to her forehead and strove to recall her drifting senses.
They were still bowling along at a sharp pace over a muddy country road; still fell the rain; still howled the wind; still pitch darkness wrapped all without. Were they going on forever? Was it a reality or a horrible nightmare?
"We are almost at our journey's end," said the man, soothingly. "Come, cheer up, Cricket. I love you, and I won't hurt a hair of your head."
"Where are we?" Mollie faintly asked.
"Rattling over a beastly country road," answered her companion, "under a sky as black as Erebus, and in a down-pour that threatens a second flood. There's the sea. We're down by the sad sea waves now, Mollie."
Mollie listened. Above the roar of the elemental strife she could hear the deep and mighty bass of the roaring sea.