conclusion of this romance. The man was, evidently, trying to
ascend or reach up the chimney, for he could hear him groping about
behind the iron-work; there was the rustle of little bits of falling
mortar. The hard breathing had ceased, but there was the rustling noise
of the man's lower limbs, as he seemed to be straining hard to reach
something, and at last came the sound as of his struggling down.

Brace, on smiling at the pitiful termination of his knight-errant's
quest, had crept closer and closer, until now he stood guardedly upon
one side of the fire-place, for there could be no doubt respecting the
sounds he had heard. The rustling continued for a few moments, and then
the hard panting noise recommenced, followed by an unmistakable stifled
sneeze, and directly after a voice muttered:

"Cuss the sut! But I've got it at last, though."

Got what? Brace's heart began to increase its rate, and the excitement,
he knew not why, rapidly returned, as there was the sound of an opening
box, a scratching, and a faint line of light appeared upon the fender.

"No go," muttered the voice, and again there was the opening sound, and
the scratch of a match upon the stone this time, for it commenced
burning with its faint blue fluttering light before the splint caught
fire.

At the same moment there was the sharp blowing, as of some one puffing
dust from some object--the sooty dust, light as air, being wafted right
in Brace's face. Then the splint caught fire, and blazed up for an
instant, but only to be quenched the next, as there fell, upon the young
man's ears the softly-muttered words:

"That's it at last!"

Book 2, Chapter XXIII.

THE CROSS.

That faint flash of light, instantaneous as it was, sufficed to pierce
one of the veils that had for many years shrouded the mysteries of the
past. Brace saw in that brief interval the meaning of the nocturnal
visit, the caution observed, and as plainly as if the words had been
uttered in his ears, he knew the man's name. It was clear enough now:
when that scoundrel had left the conservatory, he must have entered this
room--the blue-room, it must be--the room which, for twenty long years,
had held a secret unsuspected by a soul. And he, Brace Norton, had now
at his mercy the cause of the long, cruel suspicions which rested upon
Lady Gernon and his father. He had him at his mercy, with the proof of
innocence in his hand--the proof which, after twice failing, he had,