vague, that he could turn Collinson's unexpected docility to his own
purposes, possessed him even in his embarrassment, and he was still
more strangely conscious of his inordinate vanity gathering a fearful
joy from Collinson's evident admiration. It was heightened by his
captive's next words.

"Ef I wasn't tied I'd shake hands with ye on that. You're the kind o'
man, Mr. Chivers, that I cottoned to from the first. Ef this house
wasn't HERS, I'd a' bin tempted to cotton to yer offer, too, and mebbee
made yer one myself, for it seems to me your style and mine would
sorter jibe together. But I see you sabe what's in my mind, and make
allowance. WE don't want no bit o' paper to shake hands on that. Your
secret and your folk's secret is mine, and I don't blab that any more
than I'd blab to them wot you've just told me."

Under a sudden impulse, Chivers leaned forward, and, albeit with
somewhat unsteady hands and an embarrassed will, untied the cords that
held Collinson in his chair. As the freed man stretched himself to his
full height, he looked gravely down into the bleared eyes of his
captor, and held out his strong right hand. Chivers took it. Whether
there was some occult power in Collinson's honest grasp, I know not;
but there sprang up in Chivers's agile mind the idea that a good way to
get rid of Mrs. Collinson was to put her in the way of her husband's
finding her, and for an instant, in the contemplation of that idea,
this supreme rascal absolutely felt an embarrassing glow of virtue.

CHAPTER VI.

The astonishment of Preble Key on recognizing the gateway into which
the mysterious lady had vanished was so great that he was at first
inclined to believe her entry THERE a mere trick of his fancy. That
the confederate of a gang of robbers should be admitted to the austere
recesses of the convent, with a celerity that bespoke familiarity, was
incredible. He again glanced up and down the length of the shadowed
but still visible wall. There was no one there. The wall itself
contained no break or recess in which one could hide, and this was the
only gateway. The opposite side of the street in the full moonlight
stared emptily. No! Unless she were an illusion herself and his whole
chase a dream, she MUST have entered here.

But the chase was not hopeless. He had at least tracked her to a place
where she could be identified. It was not a hotel, which she could
leave at any moment unobserved. Thou