"Perfectly."

"When I returned from the City I found the bag open; and the
things I kept in it--the shawl, the linen, and the letter--"

"Gone?"

"Gone."

My heart gave one great leap in me, and broke into vehement
throbbings, which made it impossible for me to say a word more. I
reined up my horse, and fixed my eyes on Michael. He was
startled; he asked if I felt faint. I could only sign to him that
I was waiting to hear more.

"My own belief," he proceeded, "is that some person burned the
things in my absence, and opened the window to prevent any
suspicion being excited by the smell. I am certain I shut the
window before I left my room. When I closed it on my return, the
fresh air had not entirely removed the smell of burning; and,
what is more, I found a heap of ashes in the grate. As to the
person who has done me this injury, and why it has been done,
those are mysteries beyond my fathoming--I beg your pardon,
miss--I am sure you are not well. Might I advise you to return to
the house?"

I accepted his advice and turned back.

In the tumult of horror and amazement that filled my mind, I
could still feel a faint triumph stirring in me through it all,