verge of a steep flight of steps leading down to an open archway; some strange working of his mind seeming to delay his descent. In his sleep-walking trance arrived thus far on his course, he had arrested himself.

In an angle of the wall alongside, hold. ing the lantern so that its full rays were shrouded, the heavy keys taken, doubtless, from the invalid's pillow by his wife, before she drank herself to stupor lying near him on the ground, was Septimus. No hair of his head was disordered; no part of his dress displaced. But his complexion was so blanched that the rims round his eyes took a deep red by contrast. His unoccupied hand unceasingly brushed his moustache. It was the same Septimus whose smile curled appreciatively over the moral subtleties of his yellow-covered novels; who, eschewing violence, had yet brought the subjection of a strong woman to a point which his cool vindictive temper enjoyed; who had constrained me to a tacit sufferance of a manner I abhorred. And yet, there was an ominous difference. The hidden ferocity was uppermost. Regardless of all but attaining his object, callous as to the means, ruthless in using them, if the occasion befriended him, the crafty tiger gathered for his spring.

In the same second as that of the appearance of this vision, I heard George utter a loud shout- -a cry of warning and menace. Then as he flew on I knew that Septimus had darted forward. I saw him come in violent collision with the motionless figure of the old man. Then swiftly, as if stricken with a thunderbolt, he was gone, and Septimus, crouching by the edge of the rugged descent down which he had partly slipped, glowered sullenly at his brother.

I pressed my hands before my eyes, my heart beating as if it would burst, and I heard the voices exclaim simultaneously, "What are you doing here?" the question was a knell of accusation.

"What made you shout? I had followed him long enough, I was watching my time to rouse him safely. Why in Heaven's name did you call out like that when he was standing by those steps? He may be dead at the bottom there!

The reply was barely beyond a whisper, as George moved down the flight. "I wish to Heaven it had been my voice only that made him fall down."

Septimus picked up his lantern, the glass of which was broken, and slowly

"He's moving, he is not dead!" Here, shrill and piercing like the note of some harsh-voiced bird, I heard,

"Not dead-not gone yet; but I reckon he'll be a corpse before we lay him in his bed. Look at his hands, scrormin' on the ground like spiders; and his eyes!"

"Help me to lift him. Quick!"

There was a faint, gurgling moan,, a long-drawn breath. Then the unequal shuffling movements of men who try to raise a heavy burden. By-and-by an inaudible remark from George.

"What's yonder? In t cellar ?”

Gradually ascending into view, came first the grey, uncovered locks, and then the wrinkled face of Keezie. Wrapped in a patchwork quilt she seemed a very witch.

"Lawk the night, child! You look dy. ing yourself. What brought you here? "Go back; go and help! They will want you. I shall follow."

By word and gesture I dismissed her where her help was needed. She obeyed, and with slow steps, slow because I shrank from overtaking what the men carried, I stole in their rear. Was it alive or dead? The moaning had ceased, so had the la bored breathing. At the bottom of the damp, uneven steps lay Mr. Hazlit's candlestick, dinted and battered, and the stone was spattered with some crimson, ghastly drops. The archway opened straight into the circular cellar; and thus George's shout, through the open doors, must have penetrated to the old servant's ears and brought her in haste to ascertain its cause. That entrance to the dying man's hoard was free, that his treasures were accessible to any intruder, no one noted now. On went the procession, mute, save for Keezie's interjections, and horribly resembling a funeral train; the helpless burden with its white wrappings hanging like a pall, the measured advance of its bearers, and the old woman behind holding the lantern torch-wise on high. One glance of my eyes, the only one I took, painted all indelibly on my brain. Up-stairs on — on — - it seemed dream. Dimly I understood that we had left the hateful underground, we had gained the hall staircase, and I grasped the handrail to assist my feet. Once more the occupant was laid upon the bed which

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Dreamily I was aware that Isabella, roused by horrified alarm to complete wakefulness, was uttering loud exclamations; that Lizzie, with her long hair loose about her, was leaning over the bedside; that George by the mantelshelf was clasping his hands over his face so that it was completely hidden; that Septimus, impassive as a marble block, his head sunk in his shoulders, stood with folded arms, and dropped eyelids that never shifted from the recumbent form upon the couch. A strange murmuring began. An incoherent rapid babbling. At first unintelligible, then growing plainer- - shaping into words that hurried on unconnectedly. "Rain! rain! Not to-day. The grass will be wet, and the trees-drip, drip, not to-day, I tell you! . . . If the worms were to bore holes!

in which I was lying. My mantle had been taken off, and the room was a little disarranged by the means which had been tried to restore my senses. A stream of sunshine, that found admittance through some aperture, was playing gently over the counterpane, and it seemed to be the only moving thing within the house. So perfect was the quiet, Keezie did not, at first, notice my awakening; for she was not looking at me, but straight forward, with frowning eyebrows and a brooding face.

My moving drew her attention. She got up, and began to speak in a low tone, quite different from her usual key.

"You've come to at last, ma'am. Well, well, that's right. The doctor 'll be here soon, and give you something that 'll do you good. Mr. George was in a taking when he found you lying by old master's door-save his soul! And nobody to say how long you'd been there; for he thought you were safe back in your own room.'

"The "save his soul" prompted my enquiry,

"Mr. Hazlit is dead?"

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"Yes, ma'am ; he died last night — and what wonder? To rise from a sick-bed, to travel in the damp garden and cellars, and then to have such a fall! But the blame rests if it's to rest anywhere with her as goes to sleep instead of watching, and lets him wander off, knowing nothing about it. A watcher, faith! Better have had the old woman as night nurse!"

"What does she say?"

"What can she say? Nought. Except

"It was the last hill I fell down years ago when I was a boy. Some one peeped over and said, 'Well done!'"

The final "Well done!" was repeated. Then came a ghastly, feeble laugh, and something dropped heavily, heavily back. I caught a murmur in Lizzie's voice; and then my ears grew dead to further sounds.

CHAPTER X.

It was after a long forgetfulness, for the light was strong even through the closedrawn blinds of my bedroom window, that I began to be conscious of the presence

seemed himself, only curious-curious and restless. And he was pleasant with her, and not vexed that Lizzie should be getting a rest-rather pleased like. He asked a many questions about who was in the house, and if all were in bed. Then she gave him his medicine, and he told her where the brandy was, and asked for some, and said it did him a power of good. At last he seemed to drop asleep quite sudden, and she-well, she told little else, she was too shamed; but we can guess what happened then pretty well. How she came to be so heavy that she never heard him put on his dressing gown, and get a candle, and wander off upon Lord knows what fancies! Depend on it he knew what he was about. The old man was always cunning. He'd the idea in his head all the time, and thought he'd

have marvelled he didn't drop with fatigue. And Mr. Septimus sent Miss Waylen off, as you'd thrust away vermin. Then it was he told his wife, quietly, to keep guard of her, and note she didn't give her the slip. I knew things 'ud be altered for her when old master had gone. I knew it well."

"What do you mean? Watch -spy upon Miss Waylen! Who can dare? Who has any right to make a prisoner of her? She can leave the house any minute she chooses."

Keezie gave one of her most meaning sniffs.

"Don't try to get up, miss; you're weak. You've had too bad a faintingbout to bear exciting yourself. But I'll tell ye "the old woman stooped her uncanny visage until it was within a few inches of me, and whispered, "There's summat brewing summat queer, that I may guess at, but ha'n't been told. The outside doors have been fastened, and there's no leaving the house but by Mr. Septimus's knowing. Same down below, where the old man fell, all's locked up; and the boy was sent over to Bollerton early this morning-not only for doctor, I fancy. Day won't pass over without us finding out what it means."

"Is it anything that Mr. Hazlit's brother understands? What is he doing in all this?"

Oh for his presence then, to answer one question I yearned to ask, that far exceeded Keezie's knowledge! For his voice to declare that my eyes had played me false, that my senses had been bewildered, and my conviction untrue! That the house was not stained with a terrible crime; that to remain in it was not to be within the shadow of a curse, that, even to myself, I dared not name!

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Nothing yet, ma'am. When all was over, and we Miss Waylen and me— was about his father, he went straight away. Mr. Septimus wanted to stop him; but he gave him a strange look, a look I shall never forget, and said: 'Not an instant; not if the world hung on it. We'll talk afterwards.' It was as he was going out he found you, and carried you here, and sent me to you. Then he locked himself up in his room, and I heard his steps

The malicious exultation of Keezie hardly struck me. There was only one thought on which my mind would dwell. I longed to be alone to turn it over and over, striving to magnify its uncertainty.

"I should like I am weak. Will it trouble you, Mrs. Skey, to get me some tea? And then you need not stay. I am sure you must be very busy just now."

"Trouble! I'll get you something strengthening in a jiffy. But not your sloppy tea alone. Something that'll do you more good."

As she liked; it was the same to me. I wanted nothing but solitude. Still she delayed, giving a long recital of the portentous dreams from which George's shout had violently roused her. How, alert on the instant, she had found, to her astonishment, doors unlocked and open, that were usually so carefully secured. Her graphic description of the raising and removing of the old man, and the minutest details of the after-scene, were given with the peculiar unction with which her class dwells upon the circumstances attending dissolution.

"And to think that it was you that saw him first, out on the path there! Else we'd have heard and known nothing till this morning, when he'd have been found stiff and stark. Mr. George told me how it was you come to be down-stairs, when he laid you down here, and how

I was obliged to stop her. My faintness, which must have betrayed itself in my face, gave me an excuse for hurrying her departure.

It seemed as if it had been waited for. As her loosely shod feet began to shuffle down-stairs, the handle of a door turned. Not that of the one Keezie made her exit

by, but of another, which was generally locked on the further side, and opened into Miss Waylen's room.

Lizzie appeared on the threshold. She usually wears black, but at the moment the sombre hue assumed a special meaning. I noticed that although she was extremely pale, there was no evidence of emotion or repressed excitement about her, like that which when we were last alone had made her give way to an out