Marston was about to make a sneering retort, but restrained himself, and
turned his head away.

"The wretched man himself appears now very anxious to make some further
disclosures," resumed Doctor Danvers, after a pause, "and I recommended
him to make them to you, Mr. Marston, as the most natural depository of
such a statement."

"Well, Mr. Danvers, to cut the matter short, as it appears that a
confession of some sort is to be made, be it so. I will attend and
receive it. The judges will not be here for eight or ten weeks to come,
so there is no great hurry about it. I shall ride down to the town, and
see him in the jail some time in the next week."

With this assurance Marston parted from the old clergyman, and rode on
alone through the furze and fern of his wild and somber park.

After supper that evening Marston found himself alone in the parlor with
his wife. Mrs. Marston availed herself of the opportunity to redeem her
pledge to Mademoiselle de Barras. She was not aware of the strange
interview which had taken place between him and the lady for whom she
pleaded. The result of her renewed entreaties perhaps the reader has
anticipated. Marston listened, doubted, listened, hesitated again, put
questions, pondered the answers; debated the matter inwardly, and at last
gruffly consented to give the young lady another trial, and permit her to
remain some time longer. Poor Mrs. Marston, little suspecting the
dreadful future, overwhelmed her husband with gratitude for granting to
her entreaties (as he had predetermined to do) this fatal boon. Not
caring to protract this scene--either from a disinclination to listen to
expressions of affection, which had long lost their charm for him, and