"They are nice people," repeated Sybil, positively; but Lyon said

nothing; he was pale as ashes. The two gentlemen came up and stood

before Lyon and Sybil. The elder of the two took off his hat, and bowing

gravely, said to Sybil: "You are Mrs. Sybil Berners of Black Hall?"

Then all at once an agony of terror took possession of her; her heart

sank, her brain reeled, her limbs tottered.

"You are Mrs. Sybil Berners of Black Hall?" repeated the stranger,

drawing from his pocket a folded paper.

"Yes," faltered Sybil, in a dying voice.

"Then, Madam, I have a most painful duty to perform. Sybil Berners, you

are my prisoner," he said, and he laid his hand upon her shoulder.

With an agonizing shriek she sprang from under his hand, and threw

herself into the arms of her husband, wildly crying: "Save me, Lyon! Oh! don't let them force me away! Save me, my husband!

Save me!"




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