t, either; does he, Ethel darling?"

"De Inglis milor," said Girasole. "He is dead."

"Well, but I don't mean him at all," said Minnie.

"Who--who?" gasped Girasole. "Who--who--who?"

"Why, the person I mean," said Minnie, very placidly, "is Rufus K.
Gunn."

Girasole uttered something like a howl, and retreated.

CHAPTER XXXII.

UNDER ARREST.

Girasole retreated half-way down the stairs, and then he stopped for
some time and thought. Then he came back and motioned to Ethel.

"You must come," he said, gruffly.

"You shall not," said Minnie.

"No, no, darling," said Ethel; "I had better go. It will only get you
into fresh trouble. And I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Oh, how I _hate_ you!" said Minnie to Girasole. The latter said
nothing. Ethel kissed Minnie, and descended the stairs after him.

The Irish priest was standing over the grave bathed in a cold
perspiration, his heart throbbing violently, every new thud of the
earth, as it sounded violently against the coffin, sending a cold
chill of horror through every nerve. Already enough earth had been
thrown to cover three-quarters of the lid, and at the foot it was
heaped up some distance. He tried to frame some excuse to get the men
away. His brain whirled; his mind was confused; his thoughts refused
to be collected.

And now, in the midst of this, the attention of all was attracted by a
loud stern voice, which sounded from some one near. The priest looked
around. The men stopped shoveling, and turned to see the cause of the
noise.

Girasole was seen approaching, and was already near enough to be
distinguished. Behind him followed a female form. At this sight the
priest's mind misgave him.

Girasole came up, and now the priest saw that the female was no other
than Ethel.

"Where is this priest?" asked Girasole, angrily, speaking, of course,
in Italian.

The priest advanced.

"I am here," said he, with quiet dignity.

At this change in the state of affairs the priest regained his
presence of mind. The cessation in the work gave him relief, and
enabled him to recall his scattered and confused thoughts. The men
stood looking at the speakers, and listening, leaning on their
shovels.

"You were sent for?"

"Yes."

"And a maid?"

"Yes."

"You brought this lady?"

"Yes."

"You put her in disguise; you passed her off as an Italian?"

"Yes."

The priest made no attempt at denial or equivocation. He knew that
this would be use