Oh, where was the handle?
and oh, if the room should be locked! By a merciful chance it was not.

He stepped through the door, knocking Beatrice's feet against the framework as he did so, closed it--to shut it he had no time--and stood gasping behind it.
The gleam of light drew nearer.

Merciful powers! he had been seen--the old man was coming in.

What could he say?
Tell the truth, that was all; but who would believe such a story?
why, it was one that he should scarcely care to advance in a court of law.

Could he expect a father to believe it--a father finding a man crouched like a thief behind a door at the dead of night with his lovely daughter senseless in his arms?
He had already thought of going straight to Mr.Granger, but had abandoned the idea as hopeless.