"What does this mean?" exclaimed Mr. Dundass. "There must be treachery
somewhere! God knows how it has grieved my heart to think of your
union with that man--I know him to be a villain, and when repeatedly
urged to consent to the marriage, I as repeatedly refused, until your
own letter--"

"_My_ letter--good heavens!" exclaimed Mildred.

"Written in the most moving language, at length won my reluctant
consent!"

All was now explained, and the villainy of Mr. Donaldson and his
coadjutor made clear.

"Courage, courage, my darling," said Mr. Dundass, "come with me. Come,
Rupert, I will 'beard the lion in his den,' and make known this
infamous plot--come."

"My mother--spare _her_, dear grandfather--forgive them all--I am
happy now--let us not mar the pleasure of the guests," interceded
Mildred.

"You say right, my child--to-morrow will be soon enough. But come with
me, children--let us join the gay assembly--nay, fear not, Mildred.
Perozzi, the villain, he shall not dare even to look upon you!"

Now strains of delicious music filled the air--lights gleamed--jewels
flashed--feathers waved, and on every side the merry laugh and gay
badinage met the ear from prince and beggar--wild roving gipsy and
sombre nun--knights in armor--minstrels--flower-girls--jugglers and
staid Quakers, as in confused _melee_ they swept through the
rooms--yet all stood aside in silent admiration as the lovely Mildred
Ward in her graceful Turkish costume, her face beaming with happiness,
entered the saloon leaning on the arm of her gray-haired sire.

Muttering curses through his closed visor, Perozzi (who was dressed as
a knight of Old Castile) hastily left the scene. He had sought Mildred
in her chamber--she was not there, and well did his guilty fears
surmise where she might be found. One glance at her speaking
countenance was enough. He saw in a moment all was over--that the
fiendish plot so near consummation was betrayed! With terrible oaths
he mounted his mule, and plunging his spurs rowel-deep into the sides
of the poor beast rushed, armed as he was, like some terrible demon
through the peaceful moon-lit vale until he reached the Pen--vowing
that on the morrow he would seize at once with the grip of a harpy
upon the estates of Mr. Donaldson.

But here, too, he was foiled! Mr. Donaldson, it is true, did not
deserve so much mercy, but when, like a penitent, he came before Mr.
Dundass and confessed his crime, the heart of the old man