ne of his contemplative moods," thought
I, continuing my search. In another instant I started up. I had found a
little thing like a bullet wrapped up in paper; but it was no bullet; it
was a bead, a large gold bead, and on the paper which surrounded it were
written words so fine I could not at first decipher them, but as soon as
I had stepped away far enough to be out of the reach of the eyes I both
loved and feared more than any in the world, I managed, by dint of great
patience, and by placing the almost transparent paper on which they were
written over one of the white satin strings of the cape I wore, to read
these words:

"Help from the passing stranger! I am Elizabeth Ransome, owner of the
house in which I have been imprisoned five years. Search for me in
the upper story. You will find me there with my blind daughter. He who
placed us here is below; beware his cunning."

And underneath, these words:

"This is the twenty-fifth attempt I have made to attract attention to
our unhappy fate. I can make but two more. There are but two beads left
of Theresa's necklace."

"What is the matter, ma'am? Are you ill?" It was Ambrose; I knew his
voice.

Crushing the paper in my hand, I tried to look up; but it was in vain.
The sting of sudden and complete disillusion had struck me to the heart;
I knew my husband to be a villain.

CHAPTER IV. I LEARN HYPOCRISY.

Only eighteen, but from that moment, a woman. Sunk in horror as I was,
I yet had wit enough to clap my hands to my head and say I had been
dazzled by the sun.

Ambrose, who, in the week I had been with them, had shown himself
delighted with the change my coming had made in the house, looked
alarmed at this and wanted to call Mr. Allison; but I forbade him, and
said I would go in by myself, which I did under a stress of will-power
rarely exercised, I dare believe, by a girl so young and so miserable.

"What shall I say to him? how shall I meet him? how can I hide my
knowledge and act as if this thing had never been?" For even in that
rush of confusing emotions I recognized one fact; that I must not betray
by look or word that I knew his dreadful secret. If he were villain
enough to keep a woman, and that woman the rightful owner of the
property he was himself enjoying, in a prison he had made for her in
her own house, then he was villain enough to strangle the one who had
discovered this fact, were she the cherished darling of his seared and
calculating