et a few private words with Agnes. I was not disappointed. She,
too, had hurried down, and in a few words I learned that this
abominable Bludyer was paying her his coarse attentions, and with,
apparently, the full consent of Mr. Maryon. My indignation was
unbounded. Was it possible that Mr. Maryon intended to sacrifice this
fair creature to that repulsive man?

Mr. Maryon had appeared in excellent spirits when dinner began, and the
first glass or two of champagne made him merrier than I thought it
possible for him to be. But by the time the dessert was on the table he
had grown silent and thoughtful; nor did he respond to the warm
eulogiums the Colonel passed upon the magnum of claret which was set
before us.

After dinner we sat in the library. The Colonel left the room to fetch
some cigars he had been loudly extolling. Then Agnes had an opportunity
of whispering to me.

"Look at papa--see how strangely he sits--his hands clenching the arms
of the chair, his eyes fixed upon the blazing coals! How old he seems to
be to-night! His terrible fits are coming on--he is always like this
toward the end of January!" The Colonel's return put an end to any
further confidential talk.

When we separated for the night, I felt that my going to bed would be
purposeless. I felt most painfully wide awake. I threw myself down upon
my bed, and worried myself by trying to imagine what secret there could
be between Maryon and Bludyer--for that a secret of some kind existed, I
felt certain. I tossed about till I heard the stroke of one. A dreadful
restlessness had come upon me. It seemed as if the solemn night-side of
life was busy waking now, but the silence and solitude of my antique
chamber became too much for me. I rose from my bed, and paced up and
down the room. I raked up the dying embers of the fire, and drew an
arm-chair to the hearth. I fell into a doze. By and by I woke up
suddenly, and I was conscious of stealthy footsteps in the passage. My
sense of hearing became painfully acute. I heard the footsteps
retreating down the corridor, until they were lost in the distance. I
cautiously opened the door, and, shading the candle with my hand, looked
out--there was nothing to be seen; but I felt that I could not remain
quietly in my room, and, closing the door behind me, I went out in
search of I knew not what.

The sitting-rooms and bedrooms in ordinary use at The Mere were in the
modern part of the house; but there was an old El