ot in the old, bitter, and revengeful
way voiced by his tongue before we came together in the one effort to
save Carmel from what, in our short-sightedness and misunderstanding of
her character, we had looked upon as the worst of humiliations and the
most desperate of perils. There was sadness in his conviction and an
honest man's regret--which, if noted by those about us--was far more
dangerous to my good name than the loudest of denunciations or the most
acrimonious of assaults. It put me in the worst of positions. But one
chance remained for me now.

The secret man of guilt might yet come to light; but how or through whose
agency, I found myself unable to conceive. I had neither the wit nor the
experience to untangle this confused web. Should I find the law in shape
to deal with it? A few days would show. With the termination of Arthur's
trial, the story of my future would begin. Meanwhile, I must have
patience and such strength as could be got from the present.

And so the afternoon passed.

With the coming on of night, my mood changed. I wanted air, movement. The
closeness of my rooms had become unbearable. As soon as the lamps were
lit in the street, I started out and I went--toward the cemetery.

I had no motive in choosing this direction for my walk. The road was an
open one, and I should neither avoid people nor escape the chilly blast
blowing directly in my face from the northeast. Whim, or shall I not say,
true feeling, carried me there though I was quite conscious, all the
time, of a strong desire to see Ella Fulton and learn from her the
condition of affairs--whether she was at peace, or in utter disgrace,
with her parents.

It was a cold night, as I have said, and there were but few people in the
streets. On the boulevard I met nobody. As I neared the cemetery, I
passed one man; otherwise I was, to all appearance, alone on this remote
avenue. The effect was sinister, or my mood made it so; yet I did not
hasten my steps; the hours till midnight had to be lived through in some
way, and why not in this? No companion would have been welcome, and had
the solitude been less perfect, I should have murmured at the prospect of
intrusion.

The cemetery gates were shut. This I had expected, but I did not need to
enter the grounds to have a view of Adelaide's grave. The Cumberland lot
occupied a knoll in close proximity to the fence, and my only intention
had been to pass this spot and cast one look within, in m