was dark in the house, and as far as
she could judge, every one was buried in slumber; but she trembled as
she passed softly through the corridors, past door after door, beyond
each of which some one was sleeping, and in spite of her utmost efforts
her dress seemed to rustle loudly. Now and again, too, a board creaked
sharply, with a sound that sent a chill through her whole frame. But
there was no help for it now, and gliding at length down the grand
staircase, she paused by the damaged library door to listen.

All still, but the wind was getting up and beginning to moan round the
house, sighing in a way that in her excited state seemed to reproach
her, and she stopped, trembling violently.

Why had she not told him to come to the library window? The door would
have yielded to her touch, and she could have reached out to speak to
him, while now she had to slip bolts and bars, and to turn a key, one
and all of which gave forth sounds that seemed to make her blood run
cold. Once more she stopped; but summoning her resolution, she
proceeded, and the inner lobby door was passed and closed behind her.
She stood upon the floor-cloth, listening and trying to pierce the gloom
of the great billiard-room to the right, but she could only make out the
table, covered with its loose, white dust-cloth. The coats and hats,
though, against the wall, looked ghostly, and it was as much as she
could do to summon courage to proceed, till, with many a choking sob,
she told herself that it was only for his love that she did it, and that
she would give him one kiss, and then they would part till he could come
back a better man. For weren't they young even yet? She was only
twenty-four, and she could wait, for she loved John, after all, with all
his failings.

Yes, she loved John; and that thought carried her to the door, and she
placed her hand upon the top bolt just as a faint tap sounded upon the
little slip of a glass window at the side, when there came a louder gust
of wind, telling of the coming storm, and seeming to her excited fancy
like a warning. She hesitated, and stood trembling like one of the
leaves without, whose rustling she could plainly hear.

It was only to say good-bye, though, perhaps for many years, and it
would be so cruel to let him go without, and besides, it was not wise to
tarry, for there was the faint possibility of McCray being on the watch,
though this coming round to the other side of the house would,