ice. "I had better go and get it over at once. He will be
wondering what has become of us if I wait much longer. Evelyn,
good-night. Good-night, Middleton. If it is too early for you to go to
bed, you will find a fire in the smoking-room."

I bade Evelyn good-night, and followed Charles down the corridor. He
replaced the lamp with a hand that was steady enough now, and went
slowly across the picture-gallery. The way to my room led me through it
also. Involuntarily I stopped at the head of the great carved staircase
which led into the hall, and watched him going down, step by step, with
lagging tread. From the morning-room came the distant sound of a piano,
and a man's voice singing to it; singing softly, as though no Nemesis
were approaching; singing slowly, as if there were time enough and to
spare. But Nemesis had reached the bottom of the staircase; Nemesis,
with a heavy step, was going across the silent hall--was even now
opening the door of the morning-room. The door was gently closed again,
and then, in the middle of a bar, the music stopped.

CHAPTER XII.

I passed an uneasy night. The wind moaned wearily round the house, at
one moment seeming to die away altogether, at another returning with
redoubled fury, roaring down the wide chimney, shaking the whole
building. It dropped completely towards dawn, and after hours of fitful
slumber I slept heavily.

In the gray of the early morning I was awakened by some one coming into
my room, and started up to find Charles standing by my bedside, dressed,
and with a candle in his hand. His face was worn and haggard from want
of sleep.

"I have come to speak to you before I go, Middleton," he said, when I
was thoroughly awake. "Ralph and I are off by the early train. Will you
tell my father that we may not be able to return till to-morrow, if
then; and may I count upon you to keep all you saw and heard secret till
after our return?"

"Where are you going?"

"To London. We start in twenty minutes. I don't think it is the least
use, but Ralph insists on going, and I cannot let him go alone."

"My dear Charles," I said (all my anger had vanished at the sight of his
worn face), "I will accompany you."

"Not for worlds!" he replied, hastily. "It would be no good. Indeed, I
should not wish it."

But I knew better.

"An old head is often of use," I replied, rapidly getting into my
clothes. "You may count on me, Charles. I shall be ready in ten
minutes."

Ch