ore
she came out again, when he saw plainly it was his mistress. She bore
something beneath her arm; and as Dick's curiosity was now
sufficiently roused to overcome all fear of consequences, he stole
quickly down-stairs, and by a short route got sufficiently on her
track to watch her proceedings unobserved. He followed into the
garden. She paused, for the first time, under a huge sycamore tree in
the fence, and laid down her burden. She drew something from beneath
her cloak, and, as he thought, began to dig. When this operation was
completed she hastily threw in the burden, and filled up the hole
again; after which, with a rapid step, she came back to the house.
Dick was completely bewildered. He hesitated whether or not to examine
immediately into the nature of the deposit which his mistress seemed
so desirous to conceal; but as he had no light, and his courage was
not then screwed up to the attempt, he satisfied himself at present
with observing the situation, intending to take some other opportunity
to explore this hidden treasure. That his mistress's visit had some
connection with the contents of the mysterious box was now certain,
and whatever she had concealed was part of its contents, a conclusion
equally inevitable; but that she should be so wishful to hide it, was
a problem not easy to be explained without examination. Was it money?
The clotted blood forbade this surmise. A horrible suspicion crossed
him; but it was too horrible for Dick to indulge.

Wondering and guessing, he retraced his steps, and morning dawned on
his still sleepless eyelids.

Some weeks passed by, but he found none other opportunity for
examination. Somebody or something was always in the way, and he
seemed destined to remain ignorant of all that he was so anxious to
ascertain.

After the arrival of the box Maria Downes never mentioned her brother
unless he was alluded to; and even then she waived the subject as soon
as possible, whenever it happened to be incidentally mentioned.
Eleanor saw there was an evident reluctance to converse on these
matters; and, however she might feel grieved at the change, in the end
she forbore inquiry.

One morning her cousin entered the breakfast-room, where Eleanor was
awaiting her arrival. Her face was pale--almost deathly--and her lips
livid and quivering. Her eyes were swollen, starting out, and
distended with a wild and appalling expression.

She beckoned Eleanor to follow; silently she obeyed,