I ran downstairs. It was nearly four o'clock. I determined to wait in the hall or in the dining-room, in case any more of those awful men--wolves, Albert Fanning had called them--should arrive. Mother must not be troubled: mother must not run such an awful risk again. Just then I heard steps approaching, and there was the sound of a latch-key in the hall door. Most of our guests had latch-keys. I do not know what I noticed in that sound, but I knew who was there. I entered the hall. Mr. Fanning had come in. He did not expect to see me, and he started when he saw my face. I had never cared for Mr. Fanning--never, never. I had almost hated him rather than otherwise; but at that moment I looked at him as a deliverer. There was no one there, and I ran up to him.