he next moment I was beyond
the reach of his insolence and his invective.

The passionate excitement of the moment over, my first determination was
to gain the approach, and return to the house by the hall door; my next,
to break the seal of the letter which I held in my hand, and see if its
contents might not throw some light upon the events which somehow I
felt were thickening around me, but of whose nature and import I knew
nothing.

The address was written in a stiff, old-fashioned hand; but the large
seal bore the arms of the Bellew family, and left no doubt upon my
mind that it had come from Sir Simon. I opened it with a trembling and
throbbing heart, and read as follows:--

'My dear Sir,--The event of last night has called back upon a failing
and broken memory the darkest hour of a long and blighted life, and made
the old man, whose steadfast gaze looked onward to the tomb, turn once
backward to behold the deepest affliction of his days--misfortune,
crime, remorse. I cannot even now, while already the very shadow of
death is on me, recount the sad story I allude to; enough for the object
I have in view if I say, that, where I once owed the life of one I held
dearest in the world, the hand that saved lived to steal, and the voice
that blessed me was perjured and forsworn. Since that hour I have never
received a service of a fellow-mortal, until the hour when you rescued
my child. And oh! loving her as I do, wrapped up as my soul is in her
image, I could have borne better to see her cold and dripping corpse
laid down beside me than to behold her, as I have done, in your arms.
You must never meet more. The dreadful anticipation of long-suffering
years is creeping stronger and stronger upon me; and I feel in my inmost
heart that I am reserved for another and a last bereavement ere I die.

'We shall have left before this letter reaches you. You may perhaps
hear the place of our refuge, for such it is; but I trust that to your
feelings as a gentleman and a man of honour I can appeal, in the certain
confidence that you will not abuse my faith--you will not follow us.

'I know not what I have written, nor dare I read it again. Already my
tears have dimmed my eyes, and are falling on the paper; so let me bid
you farewell--an eternal fare well. My nephew has arrived here. I have
not seen him, nor shall I; but he will forward this letter to you after
our departure.--Yours, S. Bellew.'

The first stunning feeling past,