nding it to the clerk.

Three hours later Mildred Carr received the following message at
Madeira:

"From A. B. to Mrs. Carr, Quinta Carr, Madeira:

"Angela C. married her cousin G. C. this morning."

That night Lady Bellamy dined at Isleworth with George Caresfoot. The
dinner passed over in almost complete silence; George was evidently
plunged in thought, and could not eat, though he drank a good deal.
Lady Bellamy ate and thought too. After the servants had gone, she
began to speak.

"I want my price, George," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what I say. You are now Angela Caresfoot's husband; give me
back those letters as you promised, I am impatient to break my
chains." He hesitated. "George," she said, in a warning voice, "do not
dare to play with me; I warn you that your power over me is not what
it used to be. Give me back those letters. I have done your wicked
work for you and will have my pay."

"All right, Anne, and so you shall; when will you have them?"

"Now, this instant."

"But I have not got my keys."

"You forget your keys are on your watch-chain."

"Ah, to be sure, so they are. You won't turn round on me when you get
them, will you, Anne?"

"Why should I turn on you? I wish to get the letters, and, if I can,
to have done with you."

He went with a somewhat hesitating step to the iron safe in the corner
of the room and opened it. The he opened the subdivision and rummaged
about there for a while. At last he looked up.

"It is very curious, Anne," he said, in a half-frightened voice, "but
I can't find them."

"George, give me those letters."

"I can't find them, Anne, I can't find them. If you don't believe me,
come and look for yourself. Somebody must have taken them."

She advanced and did as he said. It was evident that the letters were
not there.

"Once before when you were ill you hid them. Where have you hidden
them now?"

"I haven't hidden them, Anne; I haven't, indeed."

She turned slowly and looked him full in the eyes. Her own face was
ashy pale with fury, but she said never a word. Her silence was more
terrible than words. Then she raised her hands and covered her eyes
for a while. Presently she dropped them, and said, in a singularly
soft voice,

"It is over now."

"What do you mean?" he asked, fearfully, for she terrified him.

"I mean a great deal, George Caresfoot. I mean that something has
snapped the bond which bound me to you. I mean that I