uble mystery to me."

"And to us, too," they all cried. "A few minutes ago we were in our beds
in Frankfort, and then suddenly we found ourselves here--here in this
dreadful looking forest. Oh, take us away, take us home, do!"

Hellen was in despair. It was all like a hideous nightmare to him. What
was he to do?

"You must be my guests for to-night, at all events," Wilfred said; "and
in the morning we will discuss what is to be done. Fortunately we have
enough room to accommodate you all. There is food in abundance. Let me
introduce you to my daughter Marguerite," and the next moment Hellen
found himself shaking hands with a girl of about twenty years of age.
She was clad in what appeared to be a travelling dress, deeply bordered
with white fur, and wore a most becoming cap of white ermine. Her feet
were shod in long, pointed, and very elegant buckskin shoes, adorned
with bright silver buckles. Her hair, which was yellow and glossy, was
parted down the middle, and waved in a most becoming fashion low over
the forehead and ears; and her features--at least so Hellen
thought--were very beautiful. Her mouth, though a trifle large, had very
daintily cut lips, and was furnished with unusually white and even
teeth. But there was a peculiar furtive expression in her eyes, which
were of a very pretty shape and colour, that aroused Hellen's curiosity,
and made him scrutinize her carefully. Her hands were noticeably long
and slender, with tapering fingers and long, almond-shaped, rosy nails,
that glittered each time they caught the rays of the fast fading
sunlight. Hellen's first impression of her was that she was marvellously
beautiful, but that there was a something about her that he did not
understand--a something he had never seen in anyone before, a something
that in an ugly woman might have put him on his guard, but in this face
of such surpassing beauty a something he seemed only too ready to
ignore. Hellen was a good, and up to the present, certainly, a faithful
husband, but he was only a man after all, and the more he looked at the
girl the more he admired her.

At a word from Wilfred, Marguerite smilingly led the way indoors, and
showed the guests two bedrooms, small but exquisitely clean. There was a
double bed in one, and two single ones in the other. The bed-linen was
of the very finest material, and white as snow.

"I think," Wilfred remarked, "two of the girls can squeeze in one
bed--they are neither of them ve