xpression of countenance there was no mistaking.
From Mauville's face the glad light died; he regarded her once more
cruelly, vindictively.

"You dropped the mask too soon," he said, coldly. "I was not prepared
for rehearsal, although you were perfect. You are even a better
actress than I thought you, than which"--mockingly--"I can pay you no
better compliment."

She looked at him with such scorn he laughed, though his eyes
flashed.

"Bravo!" he exclaimed.

While thus confronting each other a footfall sounded without, the door
burst open, and the driver of the coach, with features drawn by fear,
unceremoniously entered the room. The patroon turned on him enraged,
but the latter without noticing his master's displeasure, exclaimed
hurriedly:

"The anti-renters are coming!"

The actress uttered a slight cry and stepped toward the window, when
she was drawn back by an irresistible force.

"Pardon me," said a hard voice, from which all passing compunction had
vanished. "Be kind enough to come with me."

"I will follow you, but--" Her face expressed the rest.

"This way then!"

He released her and together they mounted the stairway. For a long
time a gentle footfall had not passed those various landings; not
since the ladies in hoops, with powdered hair, had ascended or
descended, with attendant cavaliers, bewigged, beruffled, bedizened.
The land baron conducted his companion to a distant room up stairs,
the door of which he threw open.

"Go in there," he said curtly.

She hesitated on the threshold. So remote was it from the main part of
the great manor, the apartment had all the requirements of a prison.

"You needn't fear," he continued, reading her thoughts. "I'm not going
to be separated from you--yet! But we can see what is going on here."

Again she mutely obeyed him, and entered the room. It was a commodious
apartment, where an excellent view was offered of the surrounding
country on three sides. But looking from the window to discern his
assailants, Mauville could see nothing save the fields and openings,
fringed by the dark groves. The out-houses and barns were but dimly
outlined, while scattered trees here and there dotted the open spaces
with small, dark patches. A single streak of red yet lingered in the
west. A tiny spot, moving through the obscurity, proved to be a cow,
peacefully wandering over the dewy grass. The whirring sound of a
diving night-hawk gave evidence that a thing of life was