ending to confront Arabella with the letter he had
received, and then lock her up in her room. But she had gone out an
hour before. Pacing the floor in a state of strong excitement, he
awaited her return until the shadows of evening began to fall.
Darkness closed over all things, but still she was away, and it soon
became evident that she did not mean to come back.

It was arranged between De Courci and Arabella that he was to wait
for her with a carriage at a retired place in the suburbs, where she
was to join him. They were then to drive to a minister's, get the
marriage ceremony performed, and proceed thence to take possession
of an elegant suite of rooms which had been engaged in one of the
most fashionable hotels in the city. To escape all danger of
interference with her movements, the young lady had left home some
hours before evening, and spent the time between that and the
blissful period looked for with such trembling delight, in the
company of a young friend and confidante. Darkness at length threw a
veil over all things, and under cover of this veil Arabella went
forth alone, and hurried to the appointed place of meeting. A lamp
showed her the carriage in waiting, and a man pacing slowly the
pavement near by, while she was a considerable distance off. Her
heart beat wildly, the breath came heavily up from her bosom. She
quickened her pace, but soon stopped suddenly in alarm, for she saw
a man advancing rapidly from another quarter. It a few moments this
individual came up to the person who was walking before the
carriage, and whom she saw to be her lover. Loud words instantly
followed, and she was near enough to hear an angry voice say--

"Ill count you, you base scoundrel!"

It was the voice of her father! Fearful lest violence should be done
to her lover, Arabella screamed and flew to the spot. Already was
the hand of Mr. Jones at De Courci's throat, but the count in
disguise, not relishing the rough grasp of the indignant father,
disengaged himself and fled ingloriously, leaving poor Arabella to
the unbroken fury of his ire. Without much ceremony he thrust her
into the waiting carriage, and, giving the driver a few hurried
directions, entered himself. What passed between the disappointed
countess, that was to be, and her excited father, it is not our
business to relate.

Not content with having interrupted this nice little matrimonial
arrangement, Mr. Jones called at the hotel where De Courci put up,