anitor. He looked at Lizzie from the bow on the
top of her bonnet to the shoes on her feet; it was not a stare, it was more
a hasty glance--and yet she could not help feeling that he knew every item
of her dress, and could have described her exactly.

"Are you a relative of this person," he asked, in a clear sharp voice,
whilst his keen eyes seemed to be piercing her through in search of the
truth.

"No, sir," she answered, faintly.

"A friend then, I presume," continued he, respectfully.

"An acquaintance," returned she. The man paused for a few moments, then
taking out his watch, looked at the time, and hastened from the office.

This man possessed Lizzie with a singular feeling of dread--why she could
not determine; yet, after he was gone, she imagined those cold grey eyes
were resting on her, and bidding the old janitor, who had grown reserved so
suddenly, good morning, she sprang into her carriage as fast as her
trembling limbs could carry her, and ordered the coachman to drive back to
the hotel.

"Father must fly!" soliloquized she; "the alarm will, no doubt, lend him
energy. I've heard of people who have not been able to leave their rooms
for months becoming suddenly strong under the influence of terror. We must
be off to some place of concealment until we can learn whether he is
compromised by that wretched man's confession."

Lizzie quickly paid her bill, packed her trunk, and started for the station
in hopes of catching the mid-day train for New York.

The driver did not spare his horses, but at her request drove them at their
utmost speed--but in vain. She arrived there only time enough to see the
train move away; and there, standing on the platform, looking at her with a
sort of triumphant satisfaction, was the man with the keen grey eyes.
"Stop! stop!" cried she.

"Too late, miss," said a bystander, sympathizingly; "just too late--no
other train for three hours."

"Three hours!" said Lizzie, despairingly; "three hours! Yet I must be
patient--there is no remedy," and she endeavoured to banish her fears and
occupy herself in reading the advertisements that were posted up about the
station. It was of no avail, that keen-looking man with his piercing grey
eyes haunted her; and she could not avoid associating him in her thoughts
with her father and McCloskey. What was he doing on the train, and why did
he regard her with that look of triumphant satisfaction.

Those were to her the three longest hours