f together and went away,
returning with a light. He bent down over the broken hearth-stone to
see if the moonlight falling through the storied window had in any way
deceived him. Then with a groan of anguish he sank to his knees.

There, sure enough, through the crack in the broken stone were
protruding a multitude of threads of golden hair just tinged with
grey!

He was disturbed by a noise at the door, and looking round, saw his
wife standing in the doorway. In the desperation of the moment he took
action to prevent discovery, and lighting a match at the lamp, stooped
down and burned away the hair that rose through the broken stone. Then
rising nonchalantly as he could, he pretended surprise at seeing his
wife beside him.

For the next week he lived in an agony; for, whether by accident or
design, he could not find himself alone in the hall for any length of
time. At each visit the hair had grown afresh through the crack, and
he had to watch it carefully lest his terrible secret should be
discovered. He tried to find a receptacle for the body of the murdered
woman outside the house, but someone always interrupted him; and once,
when he was coming out of the private doorway, he was met by his wife,
who began to question him about it, and manifested surprise that she
should not have before noticed the key which he now reluctantly showed
her. Geoffrey dearly and passionately loved his wife, so that any
possibility of her discovering his dread secrets, or even of doubting
him, filled him with anguish; and after a couple of days had passed,
he could not help coming to the conclusion that, at least, she
suspected something.

That very evening she came into the hall after her drive and found him
there sitting moodily by the deserted fireplace. She spoke to him
directly.

'Geoffrey, I have been spoken to by that fellow Delandre, and he says
horrible things. He tells to me that a week ago his sister returned to
his house, the wreck and ruin of her former self, with only her golden
hair as of old, and announced some fell intention. He asked me where
she is--and oh, Geoffrey, she is dead, she is dead! So how can she
have returned? Oh! I am in dread, and I know not where to turn!'

For answer, Geoffrey burst into a torrent of blasphemy which made her
shudder. He cursed Delandre and his sister and all their kind, and in
especial he hurled curse after curse on her golden hair.

'Oh, hush! hush!' she said, and was then sil