I slept last night.

This morning, I am strong again, calm, wickedly capable of deceiving
Mr. Philip Dunboyne, as he has deceived me. He has not the faintest
suspicion that I have discovered him. I wish he had courage enough
to kill somebody. How I should enjoy hiring the nearest window to the
scaffold, and seeing him hanged!

Miss Jillgall is in better spirits than ever. She is going to take
a little holiday; and the cunning creature makes a mystery of it.
"Good-by, Miss Helena. I am going to stay for a day or two with a
friend." What friend? Who cares?

Last night, I was wakeful. In the darkness a daring idea came to me.
To-day, I have carried out the idea. Something has followed which is
well worth entering in my Diary.

I left the room at the usual hour for attending to my domestic affairs.
The obstinate cook did me a service; she was insolent; she wanted to
have her own way. I gave her her own way. In less than five minutes I
was on the watch in the pantry, which has a view of the house door. My
hat and my parasol were waiting for me on the table, in case of my going
out, too.

In a few minutes more, I heard the door opened. Mr. Philip Dunboyne
stepped out. He was going to take another of his long walks.

I followed him to the street in which the cabs stand. He hired the first
one on the rank, an open chaise; while I kept myself hidden in a shop
door.

The moment he started on his drive, I hired a closed cab. "Double your
fare," I said to the driver, "whatever it may be, if you follow that
chaise cleverly, and do what I tell you."

He nodded and winked at me. A wicked-looking old fellow; just the man I
wanted.

We followed the chaise.

CHAPTER LVI. HELENA'S DIARY RESUMED.

When we had left the town behind us, the coachman began to drive more
slowly. In my ignorance, I asked what this change in the pace meant.
He pointed with his whip to the open road and to the chaise in the
distance.

"If we keep too near the gentleman, miss, he has only got to look back,
and he'll see we are following him. The safe thing to do is to let the
chaise get on a bit. We can't lose sight of it, out here."

I had felt inclined to trust in the driver's experience, and he had
already justified my confidence in him. This encouraged me to consult
his opinion on a matter of some importance to my present interests. I
could see the necessity of avoiding discovery when we had followed the
chaise to its destination; but I