for its life, in the icy stillness of perpetual
suspense. I have paused and rested for a while on
the course which is leading me to the End. Is it
time wasted, if the friends who read these pages
have paused and rested too?

I took the first opportunity I could find of
speaking to Marian in private, and of communicating
to her the result of the inquiries which I
had made that morning. She seemed to share the
opinion on the subject of my proposed journey
to Welmingham, which Mrs. Clements had
already expressed to me.

"Surely, Walter," she said, "you hardly know
enough yet to give you any hope of claiming Mrs.
Catherick's confidence.  Is it wise to proceed
to these extremities, before you have really
exhausted all safer and simpler means of attaining
your object? When you told me that Sir
Percival and the Count were the only two people
in existence who knew the exact date of Laura's
journey, you forgot, and I forgot, that there was
a third person who must surely know it—I mean
Mrs. Rubelle. Would it not be far easier, and
far less dangerous, to insist on a confession from
her, than to force it from Sir Percival?"

"It might be easier," I replied; "but we are
not aware of the full extent of Mrs. Rubelle's
connivance and interest in the conspiracy; and
we are therefore not certain that the date has
been impressed on her mind, as it has been
assuredly impressed on the minds of Sir Percival
and the Count. It is too late, now, to waste
the time on Mrs. Rubelle, which may be all-
important to the discovery of the one assailable
point in Sir Percival's life. Are you thinking a
little too seriously, Marian, of the risk I may
run in returning to Hampshire? Are you
beginning to doubt whether Sir Percival Glyde
may not, in the end, be more than a match for
me?"

"He will not be more than your match," she
replied, decidedly, "because he will not be helped
in resisting you by the impenetrable wickedness
of the Count."

"What has led you to that conclusion?" I
asked, in some surprise.

"My own knowledge of Sir Percival's
obstinacy and impatience of the Count's control,"
she answered. "I believe he will insist on
meeting you single-handed—just as he insisted,
at first, on acting for himself at Blackwater
Park. The time for suspecting the Count's
interference, will be the time when you have Sir
Percival at your mercy. His own interests will
then be directly threatened—and he will act,
Walter, to terrible purpose, in his own defence.

"We may deprive him of his weapons,
beforehand," I said. "Some of the particulars I have
heard from Mrs. Clements may yet be turned
to account against him; and other means of
strengthening the case may be at our disposal.
There are passages in Mrs. Michelson's narrative
which show that the Count found it necessary to
place himself in communication with Mr. Fairlie;
and there may be circumstances which
compromise him in that proceeding. While I am
away, Marian, write to Mr. Fairlie, and say that
you want an answer describing exactly what
passed between the Count and himself, and
informing you also of any particulars that may
have come to his knowledge at the same time,
in connexion with his niece. Tell him, in case
he hesitates to comply, that the statement you
request will, sooner or later, be insisted on, if
he shows any reluctance to furnish you with it
of his own accord."

"The letter shall be written, Walter. But,
are you really determined to go to Welmingham?"

"Absolutely determined. I will devote the
next two days to earning what we want for the
week to come; and, on the third day, I go to
Hampshire."

When the third day came, I was ready for my
journey.

As it was possible that I might be absent for
some little time, I arranged with Marian that we
were to write to each other every day. As long
as I heard from her regularly, I should assume
that nothing was wrong. But if the morning
came and brought me no letter, my return to
London would take place, as a matter of course,
by the first train. I contrived to reconcile
Laura to my departure by telling her that I was
going to the country to find new purchasers for
her drawings and for mine; and I left her
occupied and happy. Marian followed me down
stairs to the street door.

"Remember what anxious hearts you leave
here," she whispered, as we stood together in
the passage; "remember all the hopes that hang
on your safe return. If strange things happen
to you on this journey; if you and Sir Percival
meet——"

"What makes you think we shall meet?" I
asked.

"I don't know—I have fears and fancies that
I can't account for. Laugh at them, Walter, if
you like but, for God's sake, keep your temper,
if you come in contact with that man!"

"Never fear, Marian! I answer for my self-
control.

With these words we parted.

I walked briskly to the station. There was
a glow of hope in me; there was a growing
conviction in my mind that my journey, this
time, would not be taken in vain. It was a fine,
clear, cold morning; my nerves were firmly
strung, and I felt all the strength of my
resolution stirring in me vigorously from head to
foot.

As I crossed the railway platform, and looked
right and left among the people congregated on
it, to search for any faces among them that I
knew, the doubt occurred to me whether it
might not have been to my advantage, if I had
adopted a disguise, before setting out for
Hampshire. But there was something so repellent to
me in the idea—something so meanly like the
common herd of spies and informers in the mere
act of adopting a disguise—that I dismissed the
question from consideration, almost as soon as it