s more,"
said Gualtier, in impassioned tones.

"You will not be exposed to any further sufferings, my friend," said
Hilda. "I only want your assistance now."

"It is yours already. Whatever you ask I am ready to do."

"What I ask is not much," said Hilda. "I merely want you to be near
the spot, so as to be in readiness to assist me."

"On the spot! Do you mean at the villa?"

"No, not at the villa, but near it, somewhere along the road. I wish
you to see who goes and comes. Go out there to-day, and watch. You
need not go within a mile of the villa itself; that will be enough.
You will then know when Lord Chetwynde comes. You can watch from
behind some hedge, I suppose. Can you do that?"

"That?--that is but a slight thing. Most willingly will I do this,
and far more, no matter what, even if I have to face a second time
that phantom."

"I will go out to-morrow, or on the following day. I want you to be
on the watch, and see who may go to the villa, so that when I come
you may let me know. I do not want to call unless I positively know
that Lord Chetwynde will be there, and the family also. They may
possibly go out for a drive, or something may happen, and this is
what I want you to be on the look-out for. If Lord Chetwynde is
there, and that woman, there will probably be a scene," continued
Hilda, gloomily; "but it will be a scene in which, from the very
nature of the case, I ought to be triumphant. I've been suffering too
much of late. It is now about time for a change, and it seems to me
that it is now my turn to have good fortune. Indeed, I can not
conceive how there can be any failure. The only possible awkwardness
would be the presence of Mrs. Hart. If she should be there,
then--why, then, I'm afraid all would be over. That is a risk,
however, and I must run it."

"That need not be regarded," said Gualtier. "If Mrs. Hart had found
Lord Chetwynde, you would have known it before this."

"That is my chief reliance."

"Have you those papers?"

"Papers?"

"Yes; the cipher and the letters."

"Oh yes. Did I not say that I had them all?"

"No. I thought that you had given them all to--to _her_," said
Gualtier.

"So I did; but I got them back, and have kept them, I don't know why.
I suppose it was from an instinct of forecast. Whatever was the
reason, however, they are now of priceless value. For they enable me
now to go as the daughter of one who has been charged in these papers
with the commission of