risen such foul
ingratitude and such deadly crime. Yet in her generous heart, while
her mind understood this much, and her judgment condemned this vile
traitor, the old habit of tenderness awakened at the sight of the
familiar face, once so dear. Dearly had she loved her, fondly had she
trusted her; both love and faith had been outraged, and the friend
had doomed to death the unsuspecting friend; yet now even this last
wrong could not destroy the old love, and her thoughts were less of
vengeance than of sad reproach. Involuntarily a cry escaped her.

"Oh, Hilda! Hilda!" she exclaimed, in a voice of anguish, "how could
you betray your Zillah!"

To Hilda's excited and almost maddened fancy these words seemed like
reproaches flung out by the dead--the preliminaries to that awful
doom which the dead was about to pronounce or to inflict. She
trembled in dread anticipation, and in a hoarse, unnatural voice, and
in scarce audible words, gasped out,

"What do you want?"

For a few moments Zillah said not a word, though those few moments
seemed like hours to Hilda. Then, with a sudden impulse, she advanced
toward her. Her impulse was one of pity and kindliness. She could not
help seeing the anguish of Hilda. For a moment she forgot all but
this, and a vague desire to assure her of forgiveness arose within
her. But that movement of hers was terrible to Hilda. It was the
advance of the wrathful avenger of blood, the irresistible punisher
of wrong; the advent of a frightful thing, whose presence was horror,
whose approach was death. With a wild shriek of mortal fear she flung
up her arms, as if to shut out that awful sight, or to avert that
terrible fate, and then, as though the last vestige of strength had
left her utterly, she staggered back, and sank down, shuddering and
gasping for breath, into her chair, and sat there with her eyes fixed
on Zillah, and expressing an intensity of fear and apprehension which
could not be mistaken. Zillah saw it. She stopped in wonder, and thus
wondering, she stood regarding her in silence.

But at this moment footsteps were heard, and Obed Chute entered,
followed by Lord Chetwynde.

Obed had but one thought in his mind, and that was to unravel this
mystery as soon as possible; for the presence of such an inexplicable
mystery as this made him feel uncomfortable and humiliated. Until
this was explained in some way he knew that he would be able to find
rest neither by night nor by day. He w