onds was
prolonged to his excited sense to the duration of an hour. After each
stroke he listened for the next, dreading to hear it, yet awaiting
it, and all the while feeling upon him the eyes of one of whom he was
to be the helpless, voiceless victim.

There had been but a few minutes since Zillah left, but they seemed
like long terms of duration to the man who watched and feared. Zillah
had gone, and would not return. Would Mrs. Hart ever come? Oh, could
Mrs. Hart have known that this man, of all living beings, was thus
watching and hoping for her, and that to this man of all others her
presence would have given a heavenly peace and calm! If she could but
have known this as it was then it would have roused her even from the
bed of death, and brought her to his side though it were but to die
at the first sight of him. But Mrs. Hart came not. She knew nothing
of any wish for her. In her own extreme prostration she had found,
after a wakeful night, a little blessed sleep, and the watcher
watched in vain.

The clock tolled on.

Hilda looked out through the door. She turned and went out into the
hall. She came back and looked around the room. She went to the
window and looked out. The twilight was fading. The gloom was
lessening from around the dim groves and shadowy trees. Morning was
coming. She went back into the room, and once more into the hall.
There she stood and listened. The Earl followed her with his
eyes--eyes that were full of awful expectation.

Hilda came back. The Earl summoned all his strength, and uttered a
faint cry. Hilda walked up to him; she stooped down over him. The
Earl uttered another cry. Hilda paused. Then she stooped down and
kissed his forehead.

The Earl gasped. One word came hissing forth--"Judas!"

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE HOUSE OF MOURNING.

Zillah had scarcely fallen asleep when a shrill cry roused her. She
started up. Hilda stood by her side with wild excitement in her
usually impassive face. A cold thrill ran through Zillah's frame. To
see Hilda in any excitement was an unknown thing to her; but now this
excitement was not concealed.

"Oh, my darling! my darling!" she cried.

"What? what?" Zillah almost screamed. "What is it? What has
happened?" Fear told her. She knew what had happened. One thing, and
one only, could account for this.

"He's gone! It's over! He's gone! He's gone! Oh, darling! How can I
tell it? And so sudden! Oh, calm yourself!" And Hilda flung her