my
life, beheld.

In answer to her inquiry, I informed her that Mr. Moncton was at home,
but particularly engaged; and had given orders for no one to be
admitted to his study before noon.

With a look of bitter disappointment, she then asked to speak to Mr.
Theophilus.

"He has just left for France, and will not return for several years."

"Gone!--and I am too late," she muttered to herself. "If I cannot see
the son, I _must_ and _will_ speak to the father."

"Your business, then, was with Mr. Theophilus?" said I, no longer able
to restrain my curiosity; for I was dying to learn something of the
strange being whose presence had given my friend Harrison's nerves such
a sudden shock.

"Impertinent boy!" said she with evident displeasure. "Who taught you
to catechise your elders? Go, and tell your employer that _Dinah
North_ is here; and _must_ see him immediately."

As I passed the dark nook in which Harrison was playing at hide and
seek, he laid his hand upon my arm, and whispered in French, a language
he spoke fluently, and in which he had been giving me lessons for some
time, "My happiness is deeply concerned in yon hag's commission. Read
well Moncton's countenance, and note down his words, while you deliver
her message, and report your observations to me."

I looked up in his face with astonishment. His countenance was livid
with excitement and agitation, and his whole frame trembled. Before I
could utter a word, he had quitted the office. Amazed and bewildered, I
glanced back towards the being who was the cause of this emotion, and
whom I now regarded with intense interest.

She had sunk down into Harrison's vacant seat, her elbows supported on
her knees, and her head resting between the palms of her hands: her
face completely concealed from observation. "Dinah North," I whispered
to myself; "that is a name I never heard before. Who the deuce can she
be?" With a flushed cheek and hurried step, I hastened to my uncle's
study to deliver her message.

I found him alone: he was seated at the table, looking over a long roll
of parchment. He was much displeased at the interruption, and reproved
me in a stern voice for disobeying his positive orders; and, by way of
conciliation, I repeated my errand.

"Tell that woman," he cried, in a voice hoarse with emotion, "that I
_will not_ see her! nor any one belonging to her."

"The mystery thickens," thought I. "What can all this mean?"

On re-entering the office,