do you know there?" said Bedford, as the boy came back.

With a hasty "Thank you," Paul caught the letter and darted away to his
own room, there to tear it open and, after reading a single line, to
drop into a chair as if he had received a sudden blow. Growing paler and
paler he read on, and when the letter fell from his hands he exclaimed,
in a tone of despair, "How could he die at such a time!"

For an hour the boy sat thinking intently, with locked door, curtained
window, and several papers strewn before him. Letters, memoranda, plans,
drawings, and bits of parchment, all of which he took from a small
locked portfolio always worn about him. Over these he pored with a face
in which hope, despondency, resolve, and regret alternated rapidly.
Taking the locket out he examined a ring which lay in one side, and the
childish face which smiled on him from the other. His eyes filled as he
locked and put it by, saying tenderly, "Dear little heart! I'll not
forget or desert her whatever happens. Time must help me, and to time I
must leave my work. One more attempt and then I'm off."

* * * * *

"I'll go to bed now, Hester; but while you get my things ready I'll take
a turn in the corridor. The air will refresh me."

As she spoke, Lady Trevlyn drew her wrapper about her and paced softly
down the long hall lighted only by fitful gleams of moonlight and the
ruddy glow of the fire. At the far end was the state chamber, never used
now, and never visited except by Hester, who occasionally went in to
dust and air it, and my lady, who always passed the anniversary of Sir
Richard's death alone there. The gallery was very dark, and she seldom