rvel for the tenth time as to what could have
become of Speck, who had not made his appearance, a note was brought in
by Rimmer--just as he had brought in one last year. This also was from
Mrs. Carradyne.

"_Please come out to me for one moment, dear Godfrey. I must say a
word to you._"

Captain Monk's first impulse on reading this was to send Rimmer back to
say she might go and be hanged. But to call him from the table was so
very extreme a measure, that on second thoughts he decided to go to her.
Mrs. Carradyne was standing just outside the door, looking as white as a
sheet.

"Well, this is pretty bold of you, Madam Emma," he began angrily. "Are
you out of your senses?"

"Hush, Godfrey! Katherine is dying."

"What?" cried the Captain, the words confusing him.

"Katherine is dying," repeated his sister, her teeth chattering with
emotion.

In spite of Katherine's rebellion, Godfrey Monk loved her still as the
apple of his eye; and it was only his obstinate temper which had kept
him from reconciliation. His face took a hue of terror, and his voice a
softer tone.

"What have you heard?"

"Her baby's born; something has gone wrong, I suppose, and she is dying.
Sally ran up with the news, sent by Mr. Speck. Katherine is crying out
for you, saying she cannot die without your forgiveness. Oh, Godfrey,
you will go, you will surely go!" pleaded Mrs. Carradyne, breaking down
with a burst of tears. "Poor Katherine!"

Never another word spoke he. He went out at the hall-door there and
then, putting on his hat as he leaped down the steps. It was a wretched
night; not white, clear, and cold as the last New Year's Eve had been,
or mild and genial as the one before it; but damp, raw, misty.

"You think I have remained hard and defiant, father," Katherine
whispered to him, "but I have many a time asked God's forgiveness on my
bended knees; and I longed--oh, how I longed!--to ask yours. What should
we all do with the weight of sin that lies on us when it comes to such
an hour as this, but for Jesus Christ--for God's wonderful mercy!"

And, with one hand in her father's and the other in her husband's, both
their hearts aching to pain, and their eyes wet with bitter tears, poor
Katherine's soul passed away.

After quitting the parsonage, Captain Monk was softly closing the garden
gate behind him--for when in sorrow we don't do things with a rush and a
bang--when a whirring sound overhead caused him to start. Str