In the quiet months at Rosemont, Precious had recovered from the nervous prostration that had followed upon the horror of her kidnaping by Lindsey Warwick, and the subsequent escape from the haunted house. The failure to apprehend the villain had made every one believe he was a fugitive far away. So the careful guard over the young girl had relaxed its vigilance, and she wandered at her own sweet will about the pretty ornamental grounds surrounding the house.
One evening she wandered at twilight down to the river bank toward the spot where she had parted with Lord Chester that fateful night. She stood beneath the wide-spreading oak with the first faint rays of the moon on her face, and the river murmuring at her feet.
The true and tender little heart was very heavy, despite all her efforts to be brave and strong; and although she had sent Arthur back to Ethel so nobly she could not banish him yet from her sorrowful thoughts.
With half-shut eyes and two burning tears on her pale cheeks, Precious stood still, living over in fancy the thrilling moment when Arthur had clasped and kissed her, and claimed her for his own.
Precious loved the young hero who had saved her life with all the passion of her soul, and her fond heart was breaking for his loss.
"But he can never be mine—never!" she sobbed faintly, and the river's voice echoed the plaintive words:
"Never! Never!"
Absorbed in her own sad thoughts, Precious did not catch the faint sound of footsteps creeping nearer and nearer, did not dream that this was the opportunity long waited and desired by a sinister intruder. Her downcast gaze did not see the tall form gliding round the tree, nor the burning eyes whose gaze seemed to scorch her face!
But suddenly a shawl was thrown over her head, stifling her shriek of surprise and horror, two strong arms closed around her form, and in another moment Precious would have been borne away a helpless captive to a dreadful fate; but at that moment Earle Winans, who had followed Precious, came opportunely upon the scene.