taking herself to the scene of these nefarious transactions, and
inspecting the state of matters in person. Mrs. Horsfall remained.

Martin, master of the field now, extracted from his mother's work-basket
a bunch of keys; with these he opened the sideboard cupboard, produced
thence a black bottle and a small glass, placed them on the table,
nimbly mounted the stairs, made for Mr. Moore's door, tapped; the nurse
opened.

"If you please, ma'am, you are invited to step into the back parlour and
take some refreshment. You will not be disturbed; the family are out."

He watched her down; he watched her in; himself shut the door. He knew
she was safe.

The hard work was done; now for the pleasure. He snatched his cap, and
away for the wood.

It was yet but half-past three. It had been a fine morning, but the sky
looked dark now. It was beginning to snow; the wind blew cold; the wood
looked dismal, the old tree grim. Yet Martin approved the shadow on his
path. He found a charm in the spectral aspect of the doddered oak.

He had to wait. To and fro he walked, while the flakes fell faster; and
the wind, which at first had but moaned, pitifully howled.

"She is long in coming," he muttered, as he glanced along the narrow
track. "I wonder," he subjoined, "what I wish to see her so much for?
She is not coming for me. But I have power over her, and I want her to
come that I may use that power."

He continued his walk.

"Now," he resumed, when a further period had elapsed, "if she fails to
come, I shall hate and scorn her."

It struck four. He heard the church clock far away. A step so quick, so
light, that, but for the rustling of leaves, it would scarcely have
sounded on the wood-walk, checked his impatience. The wind blew fiercely
now, and the thickening white storm waxed bewildering; but on she came,
and not dismayed.

"Well, Martin," she said eagerly, "how is he?"

"It is queer how she thinks of _him_," reflected Martin. "The blinding
snow and bitter cold are nothing to her, I believe; yet she is but a
'chitty-faced creature,' as my mother would say. I could find in my
heart to wish I had a cloak to wrap her in."

Thus meditating to himself, he neglected to answer Miss Helstone.

"You have seen him?"

"No."

"Oh! you promised you would."

"I mean to do better by you than that. Didn't I say _I_ don't care to
see him?"

"But now it will be so long before I get to know any thing certain about
him, and I am