disappeared.

"You expect me to answer," she exclaimed, when I re-entered, "now, in a
moment? I cannot."

"But----"

"Impossible!" fastening her gaze upon the front door.

"Miss Leavenworth!"

She shuddered.

"I fear the time will never come, if you do not speak now."

"Impossible," she reiterated.

Another twang at the bell.

"You hear!" said she.

I went into the hall and called Thomas. "You may open the door now,"
said I, and moved to return to her side.

But, with a gesture of command, she pointed up-stairs. "Leave me!" and
her glance passed on to Thomas, who stopped where he was.

"I will see you again before I go," said I, and hastened up-stairs.

Thomas opened the door. "Is Miss Leavenworth in?" I heard a rich,
tremulous voice inquire.

"Yes, sir," came in the butler's most respectful and measured accents,
and, leaning over the banisters I beheld, to my amazement, the form of
Mr. Clavering enter the front hall and move towards the reception room.

XVIII. ON THE STAIRS

"You cannot _say_ I did it."
Macbeth.

EXCITED, tremulous, filled with wonder at this unlooked-for event, I
paused for a moment to collect my scattered senses, when the sound of
a low, monotonous voice breaking upon my ear from the direction of the
library, I approached and found Mr. Harwell reading aloud from his late
employer's manuscript. It would be difficult for me to describe the
effect which this simple discovery made upon me at this time. There,
in that room of late death, withdrawn from the turmoil of the world, a
hermit in his skeleton-lined cell, this man employed himself in reading
and rereading, with passive interest, the words of the dead, while above
and below, human beings agonized in doubt and shame. Listening, I heard
these words:

"By these means their native rulers will not only lose their jealous
terror of our institutions, but acquire an actual curiosity in regard to
them."

Opening the door I went in.

"Ah! you are late, sir," was the greeting with which he rose and brought
forward a chair.

My reply was probably inaudible, for he added, as he passed to his own
seat:

"I am afraid you are not well."

I roused myself.

"I am not ill." And, pulling the papers towards me, I began looking them
over. But the words danced before my eyes, and I was obliged to give up
all attempt at work for that night.

"_I_ fear I am unable to assist you this evening, Mr. Harwell. The fact
is,