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CHAPTER I. MAN PROPOSES.
CHAPTER I. MAN PROPOSES.
"H'm! And you scarcely remember your mother, I suppose?" "No, Lucian; I was such a mere babe when she died, I have often wondered what it would be like to have a mother. Auntie Hagar was always very kind to me, however; so kind, in fact, that my step-father, fearing, he said, that I would grow up self-willed and disobedient, sent her away, and procured the services of the ugly old woman you saw in the garden. Poor Auntie Hagar," sighed the girl, "she was sorely grieved at our parting and, that s
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CHAPTER II. THE OLD TREE'S REVELATIONS.
CHAPTER II. THE OLD TREE'S REVELATIONS.
Meanwhile, strange feelings filled the heart, and troublesome thoughts the head, of Madeline Payne. She looked about her sorrowfully. The leafy wood seemed one of her oldest, truest friends. Since her mother's death, she had lived, save for the faithful regard of old Hagar, an unloved life. In the only home she knew, she felt herself an object of dislike, and met only cold neglect, or rude repulsion. So she had made a friend of the shady wood, and welcomed back the birds, in early Springtime, wi
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CHAPTER III. THE STORY OF A CRIME.
CHAPTER III. THE STORY OF A CRIME.
Nurse Hagar was displeased. She plied her knitting-needles fiercely, and seemed to rejoice in their sharp clicking. She rocked furiously backwards and forwards, and sharply admonished the cat to "take himself away," or she "would certainly rock on his tail." She "wanted to do something to somebody, she did!" She looked across the fields in the direction of Oakley, and dropping her knitting and bringing her chair to a tranquil state, soliloquized: "It's always the way with young folks; they don't
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CHAPTER IV. THE DIE IS CAST.
CHAPTER IV. THE DIE IS CAST.
Lucian Davlin paced the platform of the Bellair depot, in a very unpleasant frame of mind. His companion,—half servant, half confederate, wholly and entirely a rascal,—discerning his mood and, as ever, adapting himself to it, had withdrawn to a respectful distance. Only the shine of his cigar, glowing through the darkness, betokened his proximity, or the fact that the dark platform was not in the sole possession of the sullen man who paced its brief length, and questioned the Fate in which he tr
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CHAPTER V. A SHREWD SCHEME.
CHAPTER V. A SHREWD SCHEME.
An elegant apartment, one of a suite in a magnificent block such as are the pride of our great cities. Softest carpets, of most exquisite pattern; curtains of richest lace; lambrequins of costly texture; richly-embroidered and velvet-covered sleepy-hollows and lounging chairs; nothing stiff, nothing that did not betoken abandonment to ease and pleasure; downy cushions; rarest pictures; loveliest statuettes; finest bronzes; delicate vases; magnificent, full length mirrors, a bookcase, itself a ra
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CHAPTER VI. A WARNING.
CHAPTER VI. A WARNING.
Early morning in the great city, but the buzz and clamor were fairly under way, and the streets as full of busy, pushing, elbowing life as if night and silence had never rested above the tall roofs and chimney pots. With the rattle of the first cart wheel on the pavement, Madeline had started broad awake. As the din increased, and sleep refused to return to the startled senses, all unused to these city sounds, she arose, and completing her toilet with some haste, seated herself at her window to
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CHAPTER VII. A STRUGGLE FOR MORE THAN LIFE.
CHAPTER VII. A STRUGGLE FOR MORE THAN LIFE.
It is a fortunate provision of Providence that calamity comes upon us, in most cases, with a force so sudden and overwhelming that it is rather seen than felt. As we realize the full torture of an ugly wound, not when the blow is struck, but after the whole system has been made to languish under its effects, so a blow struck at the heart can not make itself fully felt while the mind is still unable to picture what the future will be like now that the grief has come. We only taste our bitterest g
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CHAPTER VIII. THREADS OF THE FABRIC.
CHAPTER VIII. THREADS OF THE FABRIC.
What had become of Madeline Payne? The question went the round of the village, as such questions do. The servants of Oakley fed upon it. They held secret conferences in the kitchen, and grew loud and argumentative when they knew John Arthur was safely out of hearing. They bore themselves with an air of subdued, unobservant melancholy in his presence, and waxed important, mysterious and unsatisfactory, when in converse with the towns folk—as was quite right and proper, for were they not, in the e
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CHAPTER IX. GONE!
CHAPTER IX. GONE!
Hours that seemed days; days that seemed years; weeks that seemed centuries; yet they all passed, and Madeline Payne scarce knew, when they were actually gone, that they were not all a dream. Life, after that first yielding of heart and brain, had been a delirium; then a conscious torture of mind and body; next a burden almost too great to bear; and then a dreamy lethargy. Heaven be praised for such moods; they are saviors of life and reason in crises such as this through which the stricken girl
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CHAPTER X. BONNIE, BEWITCHING CLAIRE.
CHAPTER X. BONNIE, BEWITCHING CLAIRE.
Four months. We find Madeline standing in the late Autumn sunset, "clothed and in her right mind," strong with the strength of youth, and beautiful with even more than her olden beauty. Fair is the prospect as seen from the grounds of Mrs. Girard's suburban villa, and so, perhaps, Claire Keith is thinking. She is looking down the level road, and at the trees on either hand, decked in all their October magnificence of scarlet and brown and gold, half concealing coquettish villas and more stately
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CHAPTER XI. A GLEAM OF LIGHT.
CHAPTER XI. A GLEAM OF LIGHT.
A few moments after Claire's door had closed for the last time, Madeline came cautiously from her room, her slippered feet making no sound on the softly carpeted floor. Passing Claire's door, she paused before another, opened it gently, and stood in Olive Girard's bed-chamber. Evidently she was expected, for a light was burning softly and Olive sat near it with a book in her hand, in an attitude of waiting. Madeline seated herself at the little table as if quite accustomed to such interviews, an
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CHAPTER XII. A MESSAGE FROM THE DEAD.
CHAPTER XII. A MESSAGE FROM THE DEAD.
Less than a week after the events last related, and a family group surrounds the lunch table in the newly furnished morning room of Oakley. The fair and fascinating Mrs. Torrance had accomplished the purpose for which she came to Bellair. Truly had she said, "There is no fool like an old fool;" for John Arthur had been an easy victim. He had lost no time with his wooing, and so, a little less than two months from the day the fair widow came to Bellair, saw her mistress of John Arthur's household
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CHAPTER XIII. MISS ARTHUR'S FRENCH MAID.
CHAPTER XIII. MISS ARTHUR'S FRENCH MAID.
After this the days flew by very much alike. Miss Arthur's maid arrived, and proved indeed a treasure, nor was she as obnoxious to Mr. John Arthur as he had evidently intended to find her. Perhaps Céline Leroque knew by instinct that the master of Oakley cherished an aversion to French maids in particular; or perhaps she was an exceptional French maid, and craved neither the smiles nor slyly administered caresses, that fell to the lot of pretty femmes de chambre , at least in novels. At any rate
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CHAPTER XIV. WHEELS WITHIN WHEELS.
CHAPTER XIV. WHEELS WITHIN WHEELS.
"Take especial care with my toilet this morning, Céline," drawled Miss Arthur, as she sat before a mirror in her luxuriously appointed dressing-room. Wise Cora had seen the propriety of giving to this unwelcome sister-in-law with the heavy purse, apartments of the best in the newly fitted-up portion of the mansion. "I want you to be especially careful with my hair and complexion," Miss Arthur continued. "Yes, mademoiselle," demurely. Then, as if the information might bear upon the question of th
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CHAPTER XV. CORA AND THE FRENCH MAID MEASURE SWORDS.
CHAPTER XV. CORA AND THE FRENCH MAID MEASURE SWORDS.
During the day, Miss Arthur communicated to her maid the fact that Mr. Percy would remain in Bellair for the present. He was going away for a day on business; then he would return and take up his abode at the Bellair inn. "Would monsieur be absent to-morrow?" "Yes." Then, as mademoiselle would not especially need her, would she graciously give her the day? Her sister had just returned from Paris, and would very soon leave the city en route for Washington. Her sister was in the service of Mrs. Ge
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CHAPTER XVI. FACE TO FACE.
CHAPTER XVI. FACE TO FACE.
It is surprising to note how many pretexts a resolute, husband-hunting spinster can find for keeping a victim at her side, long after his soul has left her, and gone forth with yearning for a downy couch, a fragrant cheroot, or a fairer face. Edward Percy could be agreeable, for a reasonable length of time, to a very ugly woman. But even he felt himself an injured man when, at a late hour, he said good-night for the eleventh time to his fair enslaver—literally an enslaver, he thought. As the doo
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CHAPTER XVII. GATHERING CLUES.
CHAPTER XVII. GATHERING CLUES.
Claire had been absent all the morning, had gone to make some call; at least she had said to Olive, at breakfast, "I think I will take the ponies, Olive, and drive into the city this morning. It is nice out of doors, and I have made no calls since I came here." Olive Girard sat alone in her cosy drawing-room. She had been reading, but the book was somehow not in tune with her mind or mood. She had allowed it to fall at her feet, where it lay, half opened, while she drifted away from the present
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CHAPTER XVIII. THE HAND OF FRIENDSHIP WIELDS THE SURGEON'S KNIFE.
CHAPTER XVIII. THE HAND OF FRIENDSHIP WIELDS THE SURGEON'S KNIFE.
Returning two hours later, they found Claire impatiently waiting their arrival, radiantly beautiful, and overflowing with joy at sight of her beloved Madeline. "You delightfully horrible girl!" she exclaimed, after greetings had been exchanged, and they had all seated themselves in the drawing-room. "To think that you are growing more lovely every day, and that you go and hide all your beauty under an old fright of a wig, nasty blue spectacles, and deformities of jackets! I declare, it's too bad
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CHAPTER XIX. A DUAL RENUNCIATION.
CHAPTER XIX. A DUAL RENUNCIATION.
Madeline Payne had lingered over her toilet, pondering the incomprehensible manner of Claire Keith. She now stood before her mirror, brush in hand, thinking. "Not ready yet?" If Madeline could believe her eyes, Claire was actually smiling! "I thought you would be waiting for me," continued Claire, composedly, pulling a big chair forward, and sitting down where she could look full in Madeline's face. "But it is just as well; there is something that I want to say, before we go down. Why don't you
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CHAPTER XX. STRUGGLING AGAINST FATE.
CHAPTER XX. STRUGGLING AGAINST FATE.
When Claire left the drawing-room, Madeline had started up as if about to follow her. Recalling herself, she sat down again, keeping, as before, near to Olive, and taking as little share in the conversation as was possible. She dared not trust herself too much; her good resolves were strong, but not stronger than was the charm of his voice and presence. "Let them think me uncivil," she murmured to herself; "what does it matter now?" But her trial was not over. Olive and Clarence had held frequen
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CHAPTER XXI. HAGAR AND CORA.
CHAPTER XXI. HAGAR AND CORA.
Meanwhile, Lucian Davlin had hastened to Bellair in response to Cora's summons, full of conjectures as to what had "turned up." When the noon train from the city puffed up to the little platform, Lucian Davlin was among the arrivals, and at the end of the depot platform stood the dainty phæton of Mrs. John Arthur. That lady herself reined in her prancing ponies, and the whole formed an object of admiration for the few depot loungers. As Lucian Davlin crossed the platform and took his seat beside
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CHAPTER XXII. TO BE, TO DO, TO SUFFER.
CHAPTER XXII. TO BE, TO DO, TO SUFFER.
On the day that followed the events last related, Madeline Payne returned to Oakley to resume her self-imposed task. Leaving the train, the girl took the path through the woods. When she had traversed it half way, she came upon old Hagar, who was seated upon a fallen log awaiting her. Looking cautiously about, to assure herself that the interview would have no spectators, Madeline, or Céline, as we must now call her, seated herself to listen to the report of Davlin's visit, and the success of Ha
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CHAPTER XXIII. SETTING SOME SNARES.
CHAPTER XXIII. SETTING SOME SNARES.
Three days had now passed since Madeline's return from the city. On the morning of the fourth day, she seized the first leisure moment for a visit to the post-office. Instead of the single letter from Olive that she had expected, she found three. They were enclosed in one wrapper. This she removed on her way back to Oakley, and found the first, as was the wrapper, addressed in Olive's hand. The penmanship of the second was fairy-like and beautiful, and she recognized it as Claire's. At sight of
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CHAPTER XXIV. A VERITABLE GHOST.
CHAPTER XXIV. A VERITABLE GHOST.
What a day of glory it had been to the spinster, this day on which Madeline had read her three letters, and Cora had explored the shut-up wing. And what a day of torture to fastidious Edward Percy, who would have welcomed any third presence, even Cora or John Arthur—any one, anything, was better than that long slavery at the feet of a painted and too-visibly ancient mistress. But even the longest days have an end. At last he was set at liberty, and he hurried back to the little inn, literally ki
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CHAPTER XXV. SOME DAYS OF WAITING.
CHAPTER XXV. SOME DAYS OF WAITING.
Doctor Vaughan had written that he could find his way with ease to Nurse Hagar's cottage, and he did. Swinging himself down upon the dark end of the platform, when the evening train puffed into Bellair village, he crossed the track, and walked rapidly along the path that led in the direction of the cottage. He strode on until the light from the cottage window gleamed out upon the night, and his way led over the field. Half way between the stile and the cottage, a form, evidently that of a woman,
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CHAPTER XXVI. NOT A BAD DAY'S WORK.
CHAPTER XXVI. NOT A BAD DAY'S WORK.
The first thing that Doctor Vaughan did on returning from Bellair, was to seek an interview with Henry, the dark servant of Lucian Davlin. It was a mixed motive that had first prompted Henry to espouse the cause of a helpless, friendless girl; a motive composed of one part inward wrath, long nourished, against the haughty and over-exacting Lucian, and one part pity for the young girl who, as his experienced eyes told him, was not such as were the women who had usually been entertained by his mas
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CHAPTER XXVII. CLAIRE TURNS CIRCE.
CHAPTER XXVII. CLAIRE TURNS CIRCE.
There was more to tell than to learn, when Clarence called, a day or two later, at the villa. The expert who had been dogging the steps of Lucian Davlin, had made his report, it is true. But that report was a very unsatisfactory affair: A man, whom Clarence readily identified with the Professor, was an almost constant visitor at the rooms of the Man of Luck, but they, that is, the Professor and Davlin, were never seen on the street together, nor, indeed, anywhere else. In short, Lucian Davlin ha
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CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CURTAIN RISES ON THE MIMIC STAGE.
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CURTAIN RISES ON THE MIMIC STAGE.
Always, in life, little events pave the way for great catastrophes. The mine burns slowly until the explosive point is reached, and then— Fate was taking a leisurely gait, seemingly, and moving affairs at Oakley with a deliberation that was almost hesitating. Nevertheless, things were moving, and in the wake of little events, great ones could already be discerned by the plotters and counter-plotters, who waited and watched. Céline Leroque was in better spirits than usual, in these days. Indeed,
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CHAPTER XXIX. A STARTLING EPISODE.
CHAPTER XXIX. A STARTLING EPISODE.
Claire Keith had said truly that the woman across the way would prove interesting to her. She grew more and more fond of watching for the tall form, with its trailing robes of black, its proudly-poised, heavily-veiled head, and slow, graceful movement. Sometimes she saw a white hand pull away the heavy curtains, and knew that the owner of the hand was looking out upon the street. But the face was always in shadow. She could not catch the slightest glimpse of it. "She has strong reasons for not w
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CHAPTER XXX. WAITING.
CHAPTER XXX. WAITING.
The expert who had been tracing out the goings and doings of Percy, made his report. After it had been thoroughly reviewed by Clarence and Olive, they were forced to confess that they were not one whit the wiser. The detective had found how and where Percy had squandered much of his fortune, but had brought to light absolutely nothing that could be of use to his employers. And so they abandoned the investigation in that direction. But when the report of the Professor's case was sent in, they fou
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CHAPTER XXXI. MR. PERCY SHAKES HIMSELF.
CHAPTER XXXI. MR. PERCY SHAKES HIMSELF.
It was noontide at Oakley, and a December sun was shining coldly in at the window of Mrs. Cora Arthur's dressing-room. Within that cozy room, however, all was warmth and brightness. A cheerful fire was blazing and crackling in the grate. Sitting before the fire, wrapped in a becoming dressing-gown of white cashmere, was Cora herself, looking a trifle annoyed, but remarkably well withal. Wonderfully well, considering how very ill she had been. Lounging near her, his feet lazily outstretched towar
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CHAPTER XXXII. A SILKEN BELT.
CHAPTER XXXII. A SILKEN BELT.
Mr. Percy and Miss Arthur were openly engaged now, and were anxiously waiting for the recovery of the sick at Oakley, in order to celebrate their marriage. The spinster was in a frame of mind to grant almost any favor to her lover to-night. And when at last she, herself, led up to the subject she wished to broach, he foresaw an easy victory. "Oh, Edward," she sighed, with a very dramatic shudder, "you cannot think how I dread to-morrow's ordeal, the visit to my brother! Suppose poor John were to
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CHAPTER XXXIII. CROSS PURPOSES.
CHAPTER XXXIII. CROSS PURPOSES.
An irate pair were seated at breakfast the morning after Céline's flitting. And while they ate little, they talked much and earnestly, sometimes angrily. They had arrived at the conclusion, which, although erroneous, had been foreseen by the astute Céline, namely: That the robbery had been committed at the instigation of Mr. Percy, and that Céline had been brought over and used by him as a tool. It was evident that something must be done, and that quickly. While these papers were in the hands of
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CHAPTER XXXIV. A SLIGHT COMPLICATION.
CHAPTER XXXIV. A SLIGHT COMPLICATION.
And what of Céline, or Madeline, as we may call her once more? She had said, when writing to Olive, that her stay in the city must be very brief. But even her strong will could not keep off the light attack of fever that was the result of fatigue and exposure to night breezes. And the morning following her arrival at the villa, found her unable to rise from her bed. Dr. Vaughan was summoned in haste, and his verdict anxiously waited for. "It was a slight fever attack," he said, "but the wearied-
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CHAPTER XXXV. "THOU SHALT NOT SERVE TWO MASTERS" SET AT NAUGHT.
CHAPTER XXXV. "THOU SHALT NOT SERVE TWO MASTERS" SET AT NAUGHT.
Meanwhile, as they steamed into the village, which was the destination of both, Mr. Jarvis soliloquized, as he caressed his wallet pocket: "I know who will butter my bread. Davlin is as slippery as an eel, and will end in trouble. Dr. Vaughan is a man of his word, and I don't need his bond. I'm sure of one thousand, if not of five. And I never was over fond of this gentleman gambler." It may be remarked that Davlin was a man pretty well known by the police and detectives. A gambler riding the to
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CHAPTER XXXVI. MR. LORD'S LETTER.
CHAPTER XXXVI. MR. LORD'S LETTER.
The friendship that had sprung up between Claire Keith and Mrs. Ralston, grew and strengthened as the days went by. Claire's enthusiasm had overflowed in more than one letter to Olive. The oft-repeated wish that her new friend and her much loved sister might meet, had at last drawn from that somewhat preoccupied sister a very cordial invitation to bring Mrs. Ralston to New York. When this invitation came, Claire, feeling that it was now time to unfold to her friend the sad pages of Olive's histo
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CHAPTER XXXVII. "I HAVE COME BACK TO MY OWN!"
CHAPTER XXXVII. "I HAVE COME BACK TO MY OWN!"
Quite the pleasantest of all the rooms that had been so sumptuously fitted up, when "Mrs. Torrance" came to Oakley, a bride, was the back drawing-room. At least it was pleasantest in Winter. Its large windows faced south and west, and all of the Winter sunshine fell upon them, glowing through crimson curtains, and helping the piled-up anthracite in the grate to bathe the room in a ruddiness of crimson and golden bronze. On this particular December day, the air was crisp and cold, and full of flo
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CHAPTER XXXVIII. CORA UNDER ORDERS.
CHAPTER XXXVIII. CORA UNDER ORDERS.
When Cora entered the room, Madeline Payne stood before her mirror, while her maid, kneeling beside her, arranged the folds of lustrous azure silk that fell about the slender form. The door had been opened by Hagar, who could scarcely keep her eyes off the beautiful face and form of her young mistress, and who was, in consequence, making very slow progress with the work of putting away the garments that had been discarded in favor of the lovely dinner dress. Madeline realized fully that the part
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CHAPTER XXXIX. MYSTIFIED PEOPLE.
CHAPTER XXXIX. MYSTIFIED PEOPLE.
John Arthur sat before a smoldering fire, gazing moodily down at the charred embers that had lost their glow and only showed a dark red light here and there, as if to assure one that there was fire in the grate. He was thinner than of old. His face wore a sickly pallor. His hands that clutched the arms of his invalid's chair worked incessantly, indicating surely that his nerves were in anything but a state of calm. He was feeble, too, in body; but his mind, spite of the verdict of the Bellair ph
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CHAPTER XL. DAVLIN'S "POINTS."
CHAPTER XL. DAVLIN'S "POINTS."
Madeline having left the morning-room, accompanied by the too observant Professor, Lucian saw at once his opportunity for a few words with Cora. Without too great an appearance of haste, he moved across the room, pausing before the fire, in front of which Miss Arthur was seated, and addressing to her a few careless words. Then he glanced at Percy, who sat at the most remote corner of the room, assuming to be much interested in some geological specimens in a little cabinet. Cora divined his inten
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CHAPTER XLI. THE DAYS PASS BY.
CHAPTER XLI. THE DAYS PASS BY.
Several days passed and still Lucian Davlin had not found the much wished for opportunity to converse with Madeline. Neither had he been able to find Cora alone. Visit her room when he would, there was the burly waiting-maid. Finally Cora had warned him, with some asperity, that his "actions looked rather suspicious," and then he obeyed her gentle hint and remained aloof. Two days after the bestowal of Strong, the maid, upon the not-too-grateful Cora, an angular, grenadier-looking female present
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CHAPTER XLII. A STRUGGLE FOR FREEDOM.
CHAPTER XLII. A STRUGGLE FOR FREEDOM.
After some days of outward calm, came a ripple upon the surface of events. It had been a dull, cloudy day, with occasional gusts of wind and rain; wind that chilled to the very marrow, and rain that froze as it fell. The three men, Davlin, Percy and the Professor, had been constrained to abandon their customary morning walk, with cigar accompaniment, up and down the terrace. And the well-borers had been obliged to stop their work. Mrs. Arthur had kept her room and her bed all day long, afflicted
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CHAPTER XLIII. THE DOCTOR'S WOOING.
CHAPTER XLIII. THE DOCTOR'S WOOING.
Mrs. Ralston had become to Olive Girard as one of the family. There was a strange affinity between the two women, who had known so much of sorrow, so many dark, dark days. As yet, however, there was not entire confidence. Mrs. Ralston knew nothing of the movements then on foot to liberate the husband of her hostess; and Olive knew no more of Mrs. Ralston's past than had been communicated by Claire, which was in reality but very little. Dr. Vaughan had become an ardent admirer of the grave, sweet
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CHAPTER XLIV. A FRESH COMPLICATION.
CHAPTER XLIV. A FRESH COMPLICATION.
On leaving so abruptly the companionship of Dr. Vaughan, Claire rushed straight to her room. Closing and locking the door, she flung herself down upon a couch and indulged in a hearty cry. She was at once happy and sorry, angry and pleased. Presently, Claire sat up and began to review things more calmly. "What a wretched little dunce I am!" she soliloquized. "And what must he think of me! Well!" with a little sigh, "the worse his opinion of me, the better for Madeline. And here I am this minute,
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CHAPTER XLV. MRS. RALSTON'S STORY.
CHAPTER XLV. MRS. RALSTON'S STORY.
Mrs. Ralston entered the drawing-room with the light of a new and strong purpose shining in her eyes. "Dear friends," she said, "sit near me and give me your attention. I have a story to tell, and I must not fatigue myself too much in the telling." Without a word, Clarence moved forward an easy chair. As she seated herself, they all grouped about her with grave, expectant faces. "I will make brief mention of myself," said the lady, sinking back in the luxurious chair with a slightly weary smile.
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CHAPTER XLVI. CORA "STIRS UP THE ANIMALS."
CHAPTER XLVI. CORA "STIRS UP THE ANIMALS."
It was evening—the evening of the day on which Mrs. Ralston had made her startling revelation. Madeline Payne stood alone in her own room, looking moodily out upon the leafless grove that was fast taking on a covering of snow. The storm that had been impending for days, had broken at last. For two hours the snow had been falling thickly, steadily, in great feather-like flakes, which quickly covered the brown earth, and clothed the naked treetops with a fair, white garment. Madeline had been stan
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CHAPTER XLVII. THE BEGINNING OF THE END.
CHAPTER XLVII. THE BEGINNING OF THE END.
The next morning dawned clear and beautiful. Over head, one unbroken expanse of blue; under foot, a mantle of soft, white ermine. All the trees were transformed into fairy-like, silver-robed, pearl-studded, plume-adorned wonders. Diamonds floated in the air, and sunbeams lighted up the whole with dazzling brilliancy. Everything was white, pure, wonderful, and the whole enclosed in a monster chrysolite; earth, air, and sky, were shut within a radiant sphere that had never an outlet. Madeline had
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CHAPTER XLVIII. THE SWORD OF FATE.
CHAPTER XLVIII. THE SWORD OF FATE.
Evening at Oakley. At last the long day was done: the day that to Madeline Payne had seemed almost endless. At last, too, the early evening hours had dragged themselves away, and the time of her triumph was at hand. From out Hagar's cottage a silent party issued, and took their way across the snow to the little stile just above the terrace walk. Here they paused for a moment. Some one was loitering on the terrace, where the shadows fell thickest. Madeline stepped through the gap, saying softly:
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CHAPTER XLIX. AS THE FOOL DIETH.
CHAPTER XLIX. AS THE FOOL DIETH.
Edward Percy is dying—was dying when they lifted him from the drawing-room carpet, and gently laid him on the couch hastily prepared by Hagar and the frightened servants. They have watched beside him through the night, and now, in the gray of the morning, Clarence Vaughan still keeps his vigil. The wounded man moves feebly, and turns his fast dimming eyes toward the watcher. "I thought—I saw—some one," he says, brokenly, "when—I fell. Who—was—the lady?" His voice dies away, as Clarence, bending
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THE END.
THE END.
A Mountain Mystery; or, The Outlaws of the Rockies. Dangerous Ground; or, The Rival Detectives. Madeline Payne, the Detective's Daughter. Out of a Labyrinth. The Gold Hunters' Adventures in Australia. The Bushrangers; or, Wild Life in Australia. The Gold Hunters in Europe; or, The Dead Alive. A Slaver's Adventures on Sea and Land. A Whaleman's Adventures on Sea and Land. Running the Blockade....
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