s tree; he would discover if his wife's
agitation, when he proposed digging about it, was in any way connected
with the mystery which surrounded her. He believed that it was so,
though in what manner it was impossible to divine. Perhaps there were
letters hidden there--some condemning evidence against her which she had
found no opportunity since his return to destroy. Whatever it was, he
would discover it, drag it out, and with this fresh proof of her
treachery in his hands, overwhelm her with a knowledge of her guilt.

He, too, sat watching the clock, counting the strokes as the hours
sounded, but to him the time appointed did not arrive quickly. It seemed
as if the hands scarcely moved; in his mad impatience he thought the
appointed instant never would approach.

It was a terrible vigil that he kept; the strongest man could not for
many hours have endured that strain of suspense, while tortured by such
fiendish whispers as moaned in his ear.

The time came at last; the moonlight streamed pale and uncertain through
the casement; no sound broke the stillness, even the wind had ceased its
moaning. He could go forth now without fear of discovery.

He could go forth, but to what?

His very inability to form an idea of the discoveries he might make,
increased the fever of his impatience. He could wait no longer--not a
moment--not a second.

He opened the door and crept cautiously through the gallery, down stairs
into the lower hall, undid the fastenings of the outer door and passed
on to the veranda.

The garden tools were some of them in a closet in the area; he went down
the steps, opened the door, took out a spade and hurried towards the
cypress tree.

There he was, standing under the moaning branches, his head bare,
digging wildly and aimlessly about the roots, peering at every lump of
earth with his insane gaze, ready to believe that he had at last come
upon that nameless thing for which he sought.

And while he dug furiously into the earth, Elizabeth Mellen knelt by the
window-seat watching him; and Elsie lay upon the floor, so utterly
prostrated that she could only cry out to Elizabeth at intervals in her
sharp, discordant voice:

"Is he there yet--is he there?"

"Still there," she answered.

"What is he doing?"

"Digging, digging! He is on the wrong side of the tree."

Elsie gave a sigh of relief.

"No, no," continued Elizabeth; "he stops to throw the earth back--he is
going farther round."

"H