will not fail me now. Your poor distracted

JANET

The sisters exchanged a pale glance, and Lady Haworth grasped her
sister's hand.

"Where is the messenger?" asked Lady Walsingham.

A mounted servant came to the window.

"Is any one ill at home?" she asked.

"No, all were well--my lady, and Sir Bale--no one sick."

"But the Doctor was sent for; what was that for?"

"I can't say, my lady."

"You are quite certain that no one--think--_no_ one is ill?"

"There is no one ill at the Hall, my lady, that I have heard of."

"Is Lady Mardykes, my sister, still up?"

"Yes, my lady; and her maid is with her."

"And Sir Bale, are you certain he is quite well?"

"Sir Bale is quite well, my lady; he has been busy settling papers
to-night, and was as well as usual."

"That will do, thanks," said the perplexed lady; and to her own servant
she added, "On to Mardykes Hall with all the speed they can make. I'll
pay them well, tell them."

And in another minute they were gliding along the road at a pace which
the muffled beating of the horses' hoofs on the thin sheet of snow that
covered the road showed to have broken out of the conventional trot, and
to resemble something more like a gallop.

And now they were under the huge trees, that looked black as
hearse-plumes in contrast with the snow. The cold gleam of the lake in
the moon which had begun to shine out now met their gaze; and the
familiar outline of Snakes Island, its solemn timber bleak and leafless,
standing in a group, seemed to watch Mardykes Hall with a dismal
observation across the water. Through the gate and between the huge
files of trees the carriage seemed to fly; and at last the steaming
horses stood panting, nodding and snorting, before the steps in the
courtyard.

There was a light in an upper window, and a faint light in the hall, the
door of which was opened; and an old servant came down and ushered the
ladies into the house.

CHAPTER XXVII

The Hour

Lightly they stepped over the snow that lay upon the broad steps, and
entering the door saw the dim figure of their sister, already in the
large and faintly-lighted hall. One candle in the hand of her scared
maid, and one burning on the table, leaving the distant parts of that
great apartment in total darkness, touched the figures with the odd
sharp lights in which Schalken delights; and a streak of chilly
moonlight, through the open door, fell upon the floor, and was stretched
like