h men became
conscious of another sound besides the ladies' voices--a very peculiar
sound. It also came from behind the screen. They both heard it, and
showed, by the puzzled looks they cast at one another, that neither
could make out what on earth it was. It consisted of a succession of
little rustles, followed by little thumps on the floor.

But what was curious, too, this rustle, thump--rustle, thump--fell
exactly into the time of the music; so that, clearly, either the rustle
thump was being played to the tune, or the tune sung to the rustle
thump.

This last touch of mystery inflamed Edouard's impatience beyond bearing:
he pointed eagerly and merrily to the corner of the screen. Raynal
obeyed, and stepped very slowly and cautiously towards it.

Rustle, thump! rustle, thump! rustle, thump! with the rhythm of
harmonious voices.

Edouard got his head and foot into the room without taking his eye off
Raynal.

Rustle, thump! rustle, thump! rustle, thump!

Raynal was now at the screen, and quietly put his head round it, and his
hand upon it.

Edouard was bursting with expectation.

No result. What is this? Don't they see him? Why does he not speak to
them? He seems transfixed.

Rustle, thump! rustle, thump; accompanied now for a few notes by one
voice only, Rose's.

Suddenly there burst a shriek from Josephine, so loud, so fearful, that
it made even Raynal stagger back a step, the screen in his hand.

Then another scream of terror and anguish from Rose. Then a fainter cry,
and the heavy helpless fall of a human body.

Raynal sprang forward whirling the screen to the earth in terrible
agitation, and Edouard bounded over it as it fell at his feet. He did
not take a second step. The scene that caught his eye stupefied and
paralyzed him in full career, and froze him to the spot with amazement
and strange misgivings.

CHAPTER XIX.

To return for a moment to Rose. She parted from Edouard, and went in at
the front door: but the next moment she opened it softly and watched her
lover unseen. "Dear Edouard!" she murmured: and then she thought, "how
sad it is that I must deceive him, even to-night: must make up an excuse
to get him from me, when we were so happy together. Ah! he little knows
how I shall welcome our wedding-day. When once I can see my poor martyr
on the road to peace and content under the good doctor's care. And oh!
the happiness of having no more secrets from him I love! Dear Edouard!
wh