would free her from so accursed a tyranny?

[Illustration: "SHE SAW THROUGH THE GLOOM A FIGURE"]

Agitated and excited, she lingered through the hours of the day after
parting with Dudleigh. Night came, but brought no rest; and the
following day dawned, and the irrevocable hour drew nigh. That day was
one filled with strange fears, chief among which was the thought that
Wiggins might discover all, or suspect it, and arrest her flight. But
time passed, and evening came, and Wiggins had done nothing.

All was still. The house was always still, and surrounded her--a vast
solitude. Mrs. Dunbar was in her own room: it was always her habit to
retire early. Wiggins was far away, at the west end of the Hall. Hugo
was in his remote quarters in the attic. The vigilance which her keepers
maintained by day was relaxed at night, for they never suspected her of
any design of leaving the house after dark. Her interview with Dudleigh
must have been seen and reported, but no action that she was aware of
had been taken. Perhaps Wiggins was waiting for him to make another
call, when he would step forth and formally lock her up in her room.

And now, as Edith prepared to carry her plan into execution, there was
nothing all around but the most profound stillness. Underneath the
story on which her room was there extended a hall, at the east end of
which there was a private stairway leading down to a small door which
opened out into the park. Leaving her room noiselessly, she descended to
the lower hall, traversed it, and descended the stairway to the door. It
was secured by a bolt only. This she drew back as noiselessly as
possible--not, however, without an unpleasantly loud grating sound. The
door opened without much difficulty. She passed through it. She shut it