"Yes, I treated her shabbily, you know. Surely you have not forgotten that."

"Will you remain here long?" I asked.

"Yes, I shall be obliged to do so. Business matters will

"Business matters ?" I echoed.

detain him for such an unconscionable time? If you remember, I came soon after you did."

Now, from that time forth, life at Ostend became not only supportable, but positively enjoyable. Her ladyship's presence

IMAGINE, if you can, my surprise when, two days later, I entered our shabby little parlor, to find Lady Ossory there with my wife!

Lady Ossory-and beautiful, ay, far more beautiful than ever. A perfect blonde of the rarest type was she-a being whose loveliness was enhanced a thousandfold by the exquisite charm of her childlike gentleness and gracious, kindly courtesy.

Yet not by that alone. In this instance it was enhanced by the proximity of my wife. What a painful contrast she offered to the other's sunshiny sweetness!

Her ladyship advanced to meet me with outstretched hands. 'My dear Mr. Pemberton, you did not expect to see me, I am

sure.

Cornelia and I are old friends, you know, and so when I heard that she was here I determined to find her out, andwell, will you not welcome me?"

Now, upon my word, for downright coolness a woman will outdo a man any day. Here was a person who, of all persons in the wide world, should have passed me by unnoticed; yet here she was, I repeat, absolutely meeting me with outstretched hands. Now, this was either cool contempt or resurrected affection-which? Why, resurrected affection; and I told myself as much before I said ten words to her. Yes, Stella loved me still.

Welcome her? Of course I did; awkwardly enough at first, I know, but it was not long before all restraint wore off and we were as friendly as possible. Still, in my heart I wondered how Stella could have forgiven me; that she had done so, however, I was convinced.

well say at once that I loved Stella. But there is scarcely any need to say that; it must be a foregone conclusion. Yes, I loved her, and I really had the hardihood to tell her so-that is, I attempted to tell her so, in a mad, reckless way, I well remember, but she arrested me before the first sentence was finished.

"You forget yourself," she said, coldly. "Not another word, if you please. I cannot permit you to insult me. Your wife"That woman and my

"Ah, do not mention her!" I cried. idiotic folly have ruined me!"

"You do not love her, then?"

"Love her?" I sneered. "No-ten thousand times no! hate her!''

"Poor Cornelia!" sighed my lady.

"Don't waste your pity, pray. Poor Cornelia manages to console herself with Redesdale."

This assertion was false, and I knew it. My companion knew it, too, for she merely answered, with quiet scorn: "What a coward you are! what a cruel coward! Thank Heaven, there are few like you on earth!"

"Ah, it is very easy for you to say that," I retorted; "but you do not know her as I do. You

"Enough, sir! We both know her to be one of whom you are utterly unworthy. But, unfortunately, she is your wife, and therefore you are, to a certain extent, at liberty to insult and malign her. You shall not do so in my presence, however; I beg you to remember that. Neither will I permit you to speak disrespectfully of Lord Redesdale, and if you persist in so doing, I warn you that you shall not be allowed to go unpunished." Yes, she said that to me-she, the woman who should have been mine. Bah!

Most assuredly I would. As for Cornelia, why, she was at liberty to do as she pleased; only I feared

"Fear nothing," laughed my beauty. "Your wife and I are friends again-friends as we were so long ago. She must come. I wish it."

CHAPTER II.

man.

ADY OSSORY'S advent heralded good fortune. In a word, my financial condition improved straightway; for, thanks to the death of a distant relative, I was now comparatively a rich But I did not leave Ostend, as I might have done. As usual, my wife objected. She liked the place, she said; besides, Stella would remain there for some time yet. The last argument decided me. If Stella staid, I staid also.

I did not acknowledge this to Mrs. Pemberton; but she was not slow in understanding it, and, with the charming inconsistency of her sex, she took the first opportunity that offered to taunt me with it.

"Stella influenced you," she cried, her eyes flashing, her face livid with passion. "You are staying here on her account, not on mine !"'

And at this she sank down, sobbing bitterly. I was shocked, but I retained my self-possession, and quietly proceeded to make Mrs. Pemberton thoroughly ashamed of herself, by leaving the room in silence. After that there were no more private theatricals for my benefit, for my wife and I never met except at dinner, and then we were seldom alone.

So much for myself. As for Stella and Cornelia, they still remained on terms of the closest friendship.

face and black eyes, and calmly contemptuous words and ways. And there was a scene. I did not beat her, of course; but, as her ladyship had said, I was at liberty to insult and malign her, an I beg you to believe that I availed myself of that liberty.

Ir may astonish you to learn that my wife quitted me. Not openly, as an honest woman would have done. Of course not. She stole away the day after our little dispute, and despite my most earnest endeavors, I could learn nothing of her. I went I found Redesdale. to Lady Oзsory. She refused to see me. He listened to me in silence, and then said, icily:

"Really, I do not see how I can help you in this. Mrs. Pemberton must have had a good reason for acting as she has done. Prudence and honor shoull now influence you; not my advice." "But I do not want your advice," I cried. "Well, what?"

"I want to know where she is."

"I cannot tell you that, sir." "You will not, you mean."

"I want

"

"No, I mean just what I say-I cannot; but, even if I could, I would not. There, don't look so astonished, pray; I am quite in earnest."

"And deucedly frank as well," I growled.

"I cannot help that, I assure you; no, I could not betray any one who might have seen fit to confide in me; but Mrs. Pemberton has not done so; you may believe me that she has not. Yet, why does her going annoy you? According to your own confession, she was nothing to you."

true; but he seemed in no hurry to get there. To the contrary, he dawdled away long weeks in Switzerland, and all that time I was anathematizing and following him. I was his shadow; and I was quite fearless about it, for my disguise was perfect. No one could have recognized the well-dressed man of fashion in the bearded, shabby foreigner. Yes, I was his shadow. His comings and goings were mine. Nay, more, his very servants were mine, for I had bought them; they had sold themselves and his affairs to me, but the secret of ecrets yet remained undiscovered.

At last, late in the Fall, we reached Paris, his lordship, of course, stopping at a fine hotel, whilst I contented myself with cheap lodgings near by, where I was known as Thorpe-Robert Thorpe, from London.

Time passed, and still I learned nothing. Redesdale lived as few men, whether married or single, live in Paris. Mabille and the Casino utterly failed to charm him. Bals and fêtes and petits soupers were nothing to him, whilst to the allurements and charms of Coralie or Aspasie, he was deaf and dumb and blind. Certainly you must confess that all this can be said of very few men, indeed; and, remember, I am writing of Paris in the palmy days of the Second Empire

But one fine morning I arose to find that my bird had flown. Redesdale was gone! Where? Alas, no one seemed positively to know. From the hotel people I gleaned the satisfactory intelligence that he was enjoying himself at Asnières, or St. Cloud, or Vincennes, or somewhere, and would certainly return in a few days. At Peter's café, in the Rue du Helder, where he was well-known, I could learn absolutely nothing, until an ugly, undersized, and overdressed fellow, who had overheard my inquiries, volunteered to throw some light upon the subject. This person had been breakfasting, and had gotten gloriously exalted over his coffee. That, I suppose, accounted for his civility. At all events, he came to me as he was leaving the

room.

"Excuse me, sir," said he. "I'm an American, and my name's Roach, and I happen to know Lord Redesdale. He used to come here. By Jupiter! sir, the best men in the world come here! Yes, I know Redesdale. Can't stop now to tell you about him, though. Got to drive out to the Bois-appointment, you know, eh? Drop in to see me to-morrow-early-not too early, though-won't be up-can't. I'm just below here-number eighteen, Ask concierge for Roach-Marcus Roach, American. Sure, now. Drink? No! Why not? Ah, well, in the morning. Good-by. Stop! What's name?"

"Robert Thorpe, sir."

"Yes, of course. Well, good-by, Thorpe-good-by." All this was said in an unpleasantly jerky manner, which - gave one the impression that Mr. Marcus Roach was a fast talker when his uttere was less affected by champagne. But if he talked badly, ne drove well, handling the ribbons dextrously, and always creating a flutter of excitement among the shop-girls of the vicinity, to whom the rich American's carriages and servants, suppers, card-parties, and bonnes amies were never-failing themes of gossip.

THE following morning, at ten, I was at No. 18, Rue du Helder, and far more presentable in appearance than I had been the previous day.

I found Marcus Roach, Esq., the centre-piece of a showy salon. He was gorgeous in a richly flowered dressing-gown, Turkish slippers, and a crimson velvet smoking-cap, worked with gold, looking, in fact, far more like a traveled monkey than like a man. But that was as much the fault of nature as of bad taste, I fancy, for if the poor soul had been bigger, he and his finery would have shown to greater advantage.

He received me hospitably, however-offered me chocolate, offered me cognac, but I declined both, and entered at once upon the subject of my visit.

"Redesdale? Ah, yes, of course. Yes, yes, I remember now, Thorpe-at Peter's, yesterday, and you were asking about Redesdale. Fact is, Mr. Thorpe, had a champagne breakfast yesterday, and maybe I said too much. Champagne don't agree with me. Can't. Almost forgotten you-fact-Redesdale, eh? Well, he's gone back to England. Manners-know Manners? He

you."

"Monsieur," I commenced; but he interrupted,

"If you attempt any of that cursed gibberish with me, I'll knock you down," he threatened, but still in the same low, even tone in which he had first spoken. "Now, answer me. Why

do you go about dressed in that disgraceful fashion?'' That is my business, not yours," I retorted. "Good English, at all events. Well, so far so good. Now, why do you watch me?"

"Because it suits me to do so."

"Indeed? Well, it does not suit me that you should do so any longer, and I wish you to understand that distinctly. There has been quite enough of this sort of thing. I have heard of you everywhere, or I should say that I have heard of a wretched-looking creature who was continually dogging me from place to place, and making solicitous inquiries concerning me. I confess that I suspected you at once." "Oh, you suspected me, eh?"

"Yes; and you see the hunter has been hunted. I have found you. Well, what is it? What do you want?" "I want my wife."

"But she is not with me."

"She is here."

"She is not here."

"Do you know where she is?" "Yes."

"Where?"

"I cannot tell you."

"You refuse?''

"I refuse."

"Why?"'

"Because Mrs. Pemberton does not wish to see you." "But she has seen you since she quitted me?'' "Yes; once only; three weeks ago."

"See, now, you must

"Must!" interrupted Redesdale, laughing lightly, and knock

ing the ashes from his cigar-must!"

'My lord, I implore you to tell me where I may find her." My lips uttered an appeal, but my heart burned with rage and mortification. If I had dared-oh, coward that I was !-if I had dared, I would have killed this man to whom I so humbly pleaded, and he knew it, too, for he answered in a tone of contemptuous toleration:

"Mr. Pemberton, I implore you not to annoy me either with supplications or threats. If you do, I assure you that there will be trouble. You know perfectly well that we are in a country where this sort of masquerading work is not permitted, and no man who is not a disreputable tramp at home has the right to make himself look like a disreputable tramp here, simply in order to carry out a private police system of his own.

the rocks-a place full of charms to an antiquarian, and full of charms to me.

I lodged at the only tavern in Kilwarring a wretchedly dirty hole it was, too. My days I passed in untiring wanderings; and I grew fairly sick with despair-heart and soul and body were sick with this wretched watching and waiting for what I knew must surely

come.

From my hostess I soon learned that the "great folks" were now at the Abbey-that is, the mistress had just arrived from abroad, but there was no company except a lady.

"And who is the lady?" I asked.

"I canna tell," answered my informant. "She's a puir wan-lookin' body, wi' big black een that seem to go right through you."

I said nothing, but my hands trembled, and my heart beat like a triphammer. My search was ended-I had found her!

Now, I know that you hate me cordially, and that you would murder me willingly; but you are foolishly prejudiced, and I beg you to believe that you do me a great wrong in suspecting me of any thing dishonorable. I say this, not to vindicate myself, but for Mrs. Pemberton's sake. You should not, nay, you shall not, accuse her unjustly-at least not to me. Now, go your way. If you are a sensible man you will behave yourself. If you are a fool, you will keep up this folly. But in either case, you must not annoy me again, or I will give you trouble. Goodmorning!"

He turned and went up the stairs, leaving me there in the hall. I listened in silence until I had caught the last echo of his footsteps, and then I obeyed him. I went my way. Ah, my God! what a weary, weary way it has been !

Do you imagine that Redesdale's threats influenced my subsequent course of action? You are wrong if you do. It is true that I returned to my room chafed enough at the turn affairs had taken, but as to being frightened, or even discouraged, no! To the contrary, I was never calmer, and certainly I was hopeful. I dined, smoked, and deliberated, and the result of my deliberations was a speedy change of tactics.

I determined to quit Paris, to quit it immediately, for if she whom I sought was not there, why should I remain? And that she was not there I had become convinced, even before I met Redesdale. But where was she? Ah, where but with Lady Ossory? Fool that I was, not to have thought of this sooner! There was no time to lose, then; my work was before me, and I started afresh, with renewed hope and spirit.

I left Paris that very afternoon, still retaining my disguise, however. But it served me well, "disreputable" as it made me appear, for I reached Ostend, made all necessary inquiries, and was now on my way to Scotland, yet no one had recognized me on my journey.

I went to Kilwarring, a little hamlet on the Atlantic coast, and but a few miles distant from Ossory Abbey. A quaint old feudal relic was the Abbey, perched like an aerie away up among

CHAPTER IV.

You who read this will think that I had learned to love my wife; that absence, anxiety, and remorse, maybe, had now touched my heart, and so I had learned to love her. You are mistaken; I hated her. The feeling was not new or strange; it had been growing and gaining strength for five long years. Yet, mark my inconsistency. For five long years had I been telling myself, day by day-yea, hour by hour, of what might have been had I been free; and yet, now that she had given me that freedom so coveted, I could utter no word of gratitude, only curses. I could not shrug my shoulders and be content; I must find her and slay her. Not that I believed her guilty of any sin but the sin of having married me. No, in my heart I acquitted her of all wrong-doing; but I hated her, and hate, like love, is unreasoning.

The "great folks" at the Abbey had been there for a fortnight before I saw them. I first caught a glimpse of my wife scarcely more than a glimpse. She was coming down the footpath that led in winding ways from the Abbey grounds to the beach, when suddenly she paused, stood quite still for a few moments, then turned and retraced her steps. What did this mean? Was the creature forewarned? Had some good angel led her away from the danger that lurked in ambush for her? Danger? Ay, surely, for I was there; I had long since found a post of observation, which was a place of concealment as well, and from this spot I watched, and here I waited untiringly. True, I might have gone boldly forward and claimed my own; but what would I have gained by that? Not what I wanted, for I wanted freedom and Stella; and I intended to have both.

My opportunity came at last, and soon. It was a sultry afternoon, with heavy masses of black cloud drifting lazily across a sombre sky. The tide was rising, for long waves rolled slowly inward, plashing against the big black boulders and jutting rocks that cut the narrow strip of sandy shore. The tide was rising, I say, and fate had drawn my foe down to that narrow strip of sandy shore, where she now stood with clasped hands, gazing dreamily before her. Then I arose, to do I knew not what. It is false. I knew what; and, wretch that I was, I dared do it..

Without leaving my hiding-place, I commenced whistling an air that we had often sang together-I and the woman below. Then I tried my voice at a verse or two, and as I sang I came forward, and slowly descended the winding pathway.

But when I reached the shore the woman had disappeared! Strange, was it not? I stood quite still for a moment, then I fell to whistling, and tramped on until I came to a huge mass of overhanging rock that formed a sort of cave. A pleasant nook was this same cave when the water was low; but at that moment I had no fancy for it; I contented myself with clamber