entered the plantation at this point, I entered it
too. At first I could find no path, but I discovered one afterwards,
just faintly traced among the trees, and followed it. It took me, for
some distance, in the direction of the village, until I stopped at a
point where another foot-track crossed it. The brambles grew thickly
on either side of this second path. I stood looking down it, uncertain
which way to take next, and while I looked I saw on one thorny branch
some fragments of fringe from a woman's shawl. A closer examination of
the fringe satisfied me that it had been torn from a shawl of Laura's,
and I instantly followed the second path. It brought me out at last,
to my great relief, at the back of the house. I say to my great
relief, because I inferred that Laura must, for some unknown reason,
have returned before me by this roundabout way. I went in by the
court-yard and the offices. The first person whom I met in crossing
the servants' hall was Mrs. Michelson, the housekeeper.

"Do you know," I asked, "whether Lady Glyde has come in from her walk
or not?"

"My lady came in a little while ago with Sir Percival," answered the
housekeeper. "I am afraid, Miss Halcombe, something very distressing
has happened."

My heart sank within me. "You don't mean an accident?" I said faintly.

"No, no--thank God, no accident. But my lady ran upstairs to her own
room in tears, and Sir Percival has ordered me to give Fanny warning to
leave in an hour's time."

Fanny was Laura's maid--a good affectionate girl who had been with her
for years--the only person in the house whose fidelity and devotion we
could both depend upon.

"Where is Fanny?" I inquired.

"In my room, Miss Halcombe. The young woman is quite overcome, and I
told her to sit down and try to recover herself."

I went to Mrs. Michelson's room, and found Fanny in a corner, with her
box by her side, crying bitterly.

She could give me no explanation whatever of her sudden dismissal. Sir
Percival had ordered that she should have a month's wages, in place of
a month's warning, and go. No reason had been assigned--no objection
had been made to her conduct. She had been forbidden to appeal to her
mistress, forbidden even to see her for a moment to say good-bye. She
was to go without explanations or farewells, and to go at once.

After soothing the poor girl by a few friendly words, I asked where she
proposed to sleep that night. She replied tha