secret hiding place, which he
described. You were to search for the diamonds, and I guessed from that
that he did not know what he was to be told when the young memsahib came
of age, or perhaps when she was eighteen. It was not until I had thought
over what I heard that I came to the conclusion that if I could find the
things he spoke of I might be able to find the jewels. By that time your
father had gone to bed. I was foolish not to have been patient, but
my blood boiled after waiting for eighteen or nineteen years. The god
seemed to have sent me the chance, and it seemed to me that I should
take it at once. I knew that he generally slept with his window open,
and it seemed to me that it would be easy to slip in there and to get
those things from the cabinet. I knew where the ladder was kept. I took
a file from the tool chest and cut the chain."

Here Mark dropped the letter in horror.

"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed. "Then Bastow spoke truly, and he was not
my father's murderer! Never did a single suspicion of Ramoo enter my
head. This is appalling; but I cannot read any more now. It is time for
me to go and dress for dinner."

"Is anything the matter with you, Mark?" Millicent asked anxiously, as
she met him in the drawing room; "you look as white as a sheet."

"I have been reading Ramoo's letter, and he has told me some things that
have surprised and shocked me. I will tell you about them after dinner,
dear. It is a long story, but you won't have to wait until Dick and the
Gregs are gone. They are interested in all that interests us, and shall
hear the letter read. No; I think I will ask them and Dick to come in
the morning. I should not like anything to sadden the first evening of
our coming home."

"Then it is something sad."

"Yes, but it does not affect us, though it does affect Ramoo. Now clear
your brow, dear, and dismiss the subject from your mind, else our guests
will fancy that our marriage has not been altogether so satisfactory as
they had hoped."

"As if they could think such a thing as that, Mark," she said
indignantly. "But there is the sound of wheels; it is Mr. Chetwynd's
gig."

The three visitors all came in together, having met at the door. Mark,
with a great effort, put aside the letter from his mind, and a cheerful
evening was spent. They had much to tell of their travels, many
questions to ask about the parish and their mutual friends and the
neighborhood generally, and when they rose