the rays of the candle
flashed upon the opposite wall; and my uncle, followed by his
odious-looking companion, entered the room.

My intention of watching all their movements was completely frustrated
by Mr. Moncton, who, advancing with cautious steps to my bed-side, held
up the light in such a manner as not only to reveal my face, but the
attitude in which I lay.

"Is he sleeping?" he whispered to his companion.

"He breathes like one in a profound slumber," was the reply. "'Tis a
fine lad. How much he resembles Sir Alexander."

"His father, rather," sneered Moncton. "He's a second edition of Ned;
but has got more brains. Thanks to his grandfather, Geoffrey, and his
own mother, who was a beautiful, talented creature. Stand by the bed,
Dinah, and keep watch over him while I light that lamp which he has
left on the window-sill, and search for the papers."

The old woman took the light from Mr. Moncton's hand, and his station
beside my bed. My too lively imagination pictured the witch-like face,
with its dark, snaky eyes, bending over me, and I found it impossible
to maintain, with any appearance of reality, the composure I had
assumed. In order to conceal the excited state of my mind, and to
convince her of the certainty of my pretended slumber, I threw out my
arms, and began to toss and turn, and mutter in my sleep, putting on
all the contortions which generally convulse the countenance of persons
while writhing under the influence of some terrible dream. A state of
perfect quiescence might have aroused suspicion; the noise I made
completely lulled theirs to sleep.

Meanwhile my uncle had unlocked the chest, and I heard him toss the
papers it contained, upon the floor; while, from time to time, he gave
utterance to expressions indicative of vexation and disappointment.

After examining the contents of the box thoroughly, and returning the
parchments to their original place, he said in a mortified tone:

"The papers are not here. How they have been abstracted I cannot
imagine, as I always keep the key in a private drawer of my cabinet,
which is known only to myself."

"Did you place them there yourself?" demanded the old woman, in a
hurried whisper.

"No, but Walters, in whom I placed the most implicit confidence,
assured me that he placed them here with his own hands. He may,
however, have destroyed them, and anticipated my wishes."

"And you, with all your caution," sneered Dinah North, "could trust an
a