e missing bodies had been recovered, and had received Christian
burial, except those of Sybil Berners and her young child, neither of
which had yet been found, or even heard of--a circumstance that led many
to think that the mother and babe had been rescued and concealed by her
friends.

And for many weeks Miss Tabby had lain prostrated in body and idiotic in
mind, and thus totally unable to give any account of them.

Lyon Berners' anxiety and suspense gradually settled into deep
melancholy and despondency. As a matter of duty, he managed the estate
as if Sybil or her child might one day reappear to enjoy it.

It may be remembered that when Lyon Howe, the young barrister, married
Sybil Berners, the wealthy heiress, by the conditions of the marriage
contract he took her family name, that it might not become extinct.

As an offset to this sacrifice on his part, it was stipulated in the
instrument that, in case of his wife dying before him, without leaving
children, he should inherit her whole property.

This, in the present state of affairs, gave him all the power he needed
in the management of the great Black Valley Manor.

He lived at Black Hall, doing his duty for duty's sake, a very lonely
man.

Now that Sybil was gone, the neighbors were all disposed to be too good
to him. They visited him, and invited him out. But with a just
resentment he declined all visits, and all invitations, except from
those devoted friends who had been faithful to his wife in the time of
her trouble: Clement and Beatrix Pendleton, young Sheridan the lawyer,
old Mr. Fortescue the sheriff, and Robert Munson the soldier.

Miss Tabby at length rose from her bed of illness, and, to use her
mother's words, "was able to creep about the house," but in a state of
mental imbecility, which is not an unusual effect of a long, low type of
typhoid fever. She was obstinate too, "obstinate as a mule," her sister
said. No one could get a word of satisfaction from her upon the
mysterious subject of Sybil's fate. When asked by Mr. Berners how _she_
was saved, she answered:

"I was picked up by a man in a boat."

"What sort of a man?"

"An or'nary man like any other."

"Did you know who he was?"

"No."

"Where did he pick you up?"

"Not far from the prison."

"Where did he put you down?"

"Close by the quarries."

"What became of Sybil?"

"I don't know."

"When did you see her last?"

"The last time I ever set eyes on her _face_, wa