It was with the greatest surprise that Eugene Mallard received the message that Nora delivered—that Ida was too ill to attend the grand ball with him.

"She did not seem to be ill this afternoon," he said to himself.

Obeying a sudden impulse, he hurried from the room, intent upon going to Ida's boudoir and offering her his sympathy; but, on second thought, he concluded that in all probability she would not care to be disturbed.

He felt grievously disappointed. He knew that many of his friends would be present; and besides, what could he say to Mrs. Staples and her daughters?

Some of her friends had left Ida apparently in the best of health and spirits at noon. How could he account to them for her sudden indisposition?

During the forenoon he saw that there was something on Ida's mind; that she was greatly troubled.

[236]

Perhaps the words he had said to her only a short time before had much to do with her indisposition. He felt that he ought to have a talk with Ida. If he were to reassure her that she could have everything her own way, she might feel much relieved.

A second time he started for her boudoir; but again he drew back. He could not tell what prompted him to do so.

"Such strange, contradictory emotions seem to possess me," he said. "I will go out into the grounds and smoke a cigar. That will quiet me a little, and afterward I will have a talk with Ida."

Eugene Mallard wandered about the grounds for half an hour or more. He heard a clock strike the hour of eight.

How dark and gloomy it was! There was no moon, but the stars shed a faint, glimmering light.

He had smoked a cigar; but still he paced aimlessly up and down the grounds, lost in thought.

He came to one of the garden benches. It looked so inviting that he threw himself down upon it.

How long he sat there he never knew. Presently he was disturbed by the sound of slow, cautious footsteps. It could not be one of the servants stealing through the grounds in that manner. It must be some poacher.

He drew back into the shadow of the trees, and watched with no little curiosity. He had been so kind to the villagers that he felt surprised at this apparent ingratitude.

Presently a figure came down the path. The more he watched the figure the more certain he became that he had seen it before. Its every move seemed familiar to him.

[237]

Suddenly a thought flashed into his mind that made him hold his breath.

"Great Heavens! can it be Arthur Hollis?" he ejaculated.

His face paled; great flashes of fire seemed to come from his eyes. The very blood in his veins seemed to stagnate. Faint and dizzy, he leaned back against the trunk of a tree.

Great God! what could it mean? His wife supposed him to be by this time on his way to the ball. During his absence would she meet, dared she meet Arthur Hollis?

The tall, familiar-looking figure paced impatiently by the brook-side under the dim light of the stars. Yes, the man was there waiting for some one.

From where he stood he could plainly see a faint light in the window of his wife's room, and as his eyes were fixed upon it, the light was extinguished.

If a sword had been plunged into Eugene Mallard's heart, it could not have given him a greater shock.

Many a night he had paced up and down the grounds, watching the light in that window. Then it had never been put out before ten. Why should it be extinguished so early to-night?

The thought troubled Eugene Mallard, as he turned his head and saw the figure still pacing restlessly up and down by the brook.

He dared not utter a word. He would await developments. He scarcely breathed, in his suspense. I............