th the edge of a file. But he did not see exactly what to do
about it, except to get them from Abel in the way of bargain.

"Waal, no,--they a'n't good for much 'xcep' to look at. 'F y' ever rid
on that seddle once, y' would n' try it ag'in, very spry,--not 'f y' c'd
haalp y'rsaalf.

"I tried it,--darned 'f I sot daown f'r th' nex' week,--eat all my
victuals stan'in'. I sh'd like t' hev them things wal enough to heng up
'n the stable; 'f y' want t' trade some day, fetch 'em along daown."

Abel rather expected that Elbridge would have laid claim to the saddle
and bridle on the strength of some promise or other presumptive title,
and thought himself lucky to get off with only offering to think abaout
tradin'.

When Elbridge returned to the house, he found the family in a state of
great excitement. Mr. Venner had told Old Sophy, and she had informed
the other servants. Everybody knew what had happened, excepting Elsie.
Her father had charged them all to say nothing about it to her; he would
tell her, when she came down.

He heard her step at last,--alight, gliding step,--so light that her
coming was often unheard, except by those who perceived the faint rustle
that went with it. She was paler than common this morning, as she came
into her father's study.

After a few words of salutation, he said quietly, "Elsie, my dear, your
cousin Richard has left us."

She grew still paler, as she asked,

"Is he dead?"

Dudley Venner started to see the expression with which Elsie put this
question.

"He is living,--but dead to us from this day forward," said her father.

He proceeded to tell her, in a general way, the story he had just heard
from Abel. There could be no doubting it;--he remembered him as the
Doctor's man; and as Abel had seen all with his own eyes, as Dick's
chamber, when unlocked with a spare key, was found empty, and his bed had
not been slept in, he accepted the whole account as true.

When he told of Dick's attempt on the young schoolmaster, ("You know Mr.
Langdon very well, Elsie,--a perfectly inoffensive young man, as I
understand,") Elsie turned her face away and slid along by the wall to
the window which looked out oh the little grass-plot with the white stone
standing in it. Her father could not see her face, but he knew by her
movements that her dangerous mood was on her. When she heard the sequel
of the story, the discomfiture and capture of Dick, she turned round for
an instant, with