t to do so, stifle your conscience, and do not let your superstitions
affect you. But, by the way, you know French, do you not? Then here is
a maxim that, in parting, I recommend to your attention--it has some
truth in it: Il y a une page effrayante dans le livre des destinees
humaines: on y lit en tete ces mots 'les desirs accomplis.'" And she
was gone.

"I owed him a debt for tempting George on in that business," thought
Lady Bellamy to herself, as she rolled swiftly down the avenue of
giant walnuts; "but I think that I have repaid it. The thorn I have
planted will fester in his flesh till he dies of the sore.
Superstition run wild in his weak mind will make the world a hell for
him, and that is what I wish."

Presently she stopped the carriage, and walked to the top of a little
knoll commanding what had been Isleworth Hill, but was now a black
smoking blot on the landscape. The white front of the house was still
standing, though riven from top to bottom, and through its empty
window-places the westering sun poured great streams of fire which
looked like flame shining through the eye-sockets of a gigantic skull.

"I did that well," she said; "and yet how blind I was! I should have
known that he spoke the truth when he said the letters were not there.
My skill failed me--it always does fail at need. I thought the fire
would reach them somehow."

When she arrived at Rewtham House, she found that Sir John had left,
taking luggage with him, and stating that he was going to put up at an
inn at Roxham. On the hall-table, too, lay a summons to attend the
inquest on the body of George Caresfoot, which was to take place on
the morrow. She tore it across. Then she went up and dressed herself
for dinner with such splendour that her maid thought it necessary to
remind her that there was no company coming.

"No," she said, with a strange smile; "but I am going out to-night.
Give me my sapphire necklace."

She sat through dinner, and afterwards went into the drawing-room, and
opening a despatch-box, read and burnt a great number of papers.

"There go the keys to my knowledge," she said aloud, as they flickered
and fell into ashes. "No one shall reap the fruits of my labours; and
yet it is a pity--I was on the right track, and, though I could never
have succeeded, another might. I had the key, though I could not find
the lock. I must go through with it now. I cannot live deprived both
of success and of my secret power, and I