She clutched the window-sill until her nails bent and broke against the
woodwork.

"First on one side, then the other," she whispered. "He doesn't touch
the right spot--I know it so well--night and day I have seen it----"

"Elizabeth! Elizabeth!"

She never heeded the mad cry, pressed closer and closer to the
window-frame, staring out as if every energy of her nature was centred
in that gaze.

"He has not found it! He stops again--he throws down the spade! He is
stamping on the ground. Oh! once more!"

Then another pause, and at last Elizabeth cried in the same sharp
whisper:

"He is throwing the earth back--he turns away!"

"Saved! saved!" shrieked Elsie.

Elizabeth watched her husband's movements still. He stood for some
moments in quiet, then walked about the tree; she could feel the baffled
rage that shook him.

He turned away at last and disappeared around the corner of the house.
Then Elizabeth sprang to her feet.

"Where are you going?" cried Elsie.

"Lie still--don't speak, on your life!"

She ran to the door and locked it, then threw herself down by the fire.

"He might come in and find us," she whispered.

Elsie crept across the floor again, seeking protection at her side.
There they waited, hushing their breaths, listening for the echo of his
step on the stairs. It came at last, muffled and cautious, but terribly
distinct to their strained senses. He half paused at the room where they
were, passed on, the door of his chamber opened and shut.

"He has gone in," said Elizabeth.

"Saved! saved!" broke again from Elsie, but there was no answering echo
from the woman by her side.

For a time they sat motionless, whether moments or hours neither of them
ever could have told.

CHAPTER LXII.

UNDER THE CEDAR.

At last Elizabeth rose, moved noiselessly across the chamber, while
Elsie raised her head to look.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"You know," Elizabeth answered.

"You won't--you can't! Oh, wait--wait!"

"And to-morrow have the whole household look on while the work is more
thoroughly done!"

"Is there no other way?"

"None. This is the last hope; I shall try it."

There was no elation in her voice at the danger she had escaped, no hope
rising up now that she might go through her task in safety, no dread
either of what she had to do, only stern determination, the chill of
utter despair, ready to struggle but not to hope. She wrapped a shawl
about her with