he was guilty of knowing how his health
was broken when she married him; guilty of knowing, when he left her the
Combe-Raven money, that the accident of a moment, harmless to other men,
might place his life in jeopardy, and effect her release. His death
had told her this--had told her plainly what she had shrunk, in his
lifetime, from openly acknowledging to herself. From the dull torment of
that reproach; from the dreary wretchedness of doubting everybody, even
to Norah herself; from the bitter sense of her defeated schemes; from
the blank solitude of her friendless life--what refuge was left? But one
refuge now. She turned to the relentless Purpose which was hurrying her
to her ruin, and cried to it with the daring of her despair--Drive me
on!

For days and days together she had bent her mind on the one object which
occupied it since she had received the lawyer's letter. For days
and days together she had toiled to meet the first necessity of her
position--to find a means of discovering the Secret Trust. There was no
hope, this time, of assistance from Captain Wragge. Long practice had
made the old militia-man an adept in the art of vanishing. The plow of
the moral agriculturist left no furrows--not a trace of him was to be
found! Mr. Loscombe was too cautious to commit himself to an active
course of any kind; he passively maintained his opinions and left the
rest to his client---he desired to know nothing until the Trust was
placed in his hands. Magdalen's interests were now in Magdalen's own
sole care. Risk or no risk, what she did next she must do by herself.

The prospect had not daunted her. Alone she had calculated the chances
that might be tried. Alone she was now determined to make the attempt.

"The time has come," she said to herself, as she sat over the fire. "I
must sound Louisa first."

She collected the scattered coins in her lap, and placed them in a
little heap on the table, then rose and rang the bell. The landlady
answered it.

"Is my servant downstairs?" inquired Magdalen.

"Yes, ma'am. She is having her tea."

"When she has done, say I want her up here. Wait a moment. You will find
your money on the table--the money I owe you for last week. Can you find
it? or would you like to have a candle?"

"It's rather dark, ma'am."

Magdalen lit a candle. "What notice must I give you," she asked, as she
put the candle on the table, "before I leave?"

"A week is the usual notice, ma'am. I hope you