ch other. I've just turned them out," faltered the woman,
shivering as with an ague fit.

"What--what was that--that went away in the carriage?" asked Clara
shuddering.

"The colonel, gone to meet the early stage at Tip-Top, to take him to
Washington. He would have taken leave of you last night, but when he
came to your parlor you had left it."

"But--but--there is blood upon your hand, Dorcas Knight!" cried Clara,
shaking with horror.

"I--I know; the cats scratched me as I put them out," stammered the
stern woman, trembling almost as much as Clara herself.

These answers failed to satisfy the young girl, who shrank in terror
and loathing from that woman's presence, and sought the privacy of her
own chamber, murmuring:

"What has happened? What has been done? Oh, heaven! oh, heaven! have
mercy on us! some dreadful deed has been done in this house to-night!"

There was no more sleep for Clara. She heard the clock strike every
hour from one to six in the morning, when she arose and dressed herself
and went from her room, expecting to see upon the floor and walls and
upon the faces of the household signs of some dreadful tragedy enacted
upon the previous night.

But all things were as usual--the same dark, gloomy and neglected
magnificence about the rooms and passages, the same reserved, sullen
and silent aspect about the persons.

Dorcas Knight presided as usual at the head of the breakfast table, and
Craven Le Noir at the foot. Clara sat in her accustomed seat at the
side, midway between them.

Clara shuddered in taking her cup of coffee from the hand of Dorcas,
and declined the wing of fowl that Craven Le Noir would have put upon
her plate.

Not a word was said upon the subject of the mystery of the preceding
night until Craven Le Noir, without venturing to meet the eyes of the
young girl, said:

"You look very pale, Clara."

"Miss Day was frightened by the cats last night," said Dorcas.

Clara answered never a word. The ridiculous story essayed to be palmed
off upon her credulity in explanation of the night's mystery had not
gained an instant's belief.

She knew that the cry that had startled her from sleep had burst in
strong agony from human lips!

That the helpless weight she had heard dragged down the stairs and
along the whole length of the passage was some dead or insensible human
form!

That the blood she had seen upon the hand of Dorcas Knight was--oh,
heaven! her mind shrank back appal