ted by Mauville, had not
miscarried, certain misgivings arose, for there is a conscience in the
culmination wanting in the conception of an act. As the partial
realization of the situation swept over her, she gave a gasp, and
then, the vehicle having meanwhile vanished, a desperate spirit of
bravado replaced her momentary apprehension. She even laughed
nervously as she waved her handkerchief in the direction the coach
had taken: "_Bon voyage!_"

But as the words fell from the smiling lips, her eyes became
thoughtful and her hand fell to her side; it occurred to Susan she
would be obliged to divert suspicion from herself. The curling lips
straightened; she turned abruptly and hastened toward the town. But
her footsteps soon lagged and she paused thoughtfully.

"If I reach the hotel too soon," she murmured, "they may overtake
him."

So she stopped at the wayside, attracted by the brilliant cardinal
flowers, humming as she plucked them, but ever and anon glancing
around guiltily. The absurd thought came to her that the bright autumn
blossoms were red, the hue of sin, and she threw them on the sward,
and unconsciously rubbed her hands on her dress.

Still she lingered, however, vaguely mindful she was adding to her
burden of ill-doing, but finally again started slowly toward the
village, hurrying as she approached the hotel, where she encountered
the soldier on the veranda. Her distressed countenance and haste
proclaimed her a messenger of disaster.

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Where is Mr. Barnes?"

"What is the matter, Miss Duran?" Suspecting very little was the
matter, for Susan was nothing, if not all of a twitter.

"Constance has been carried off!"

"Carried off!" He regarded her as if he thought she had lost her
senses.

"Yes; abducted!"

"Abducted! By whom?"

"I--I did not see his face!" she gasped. "And it is all my fault!
I asked her to take a walk! Oh, what shall I do?" Wringing her hands
in anguish that was half real. "We kept on and on--it was so
pleasant!--until we had passed far beyond the outskirts of the
village. At a turn in the road stood a coach--a cloak was thrown
over my head by some one behind--I must have fainted, and, when I
recovered, she was gone. Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"

"When did it happen?" As he spoke the young man left the veranda.
Grazing contentedly near the porch was his horse and Saint-Prosper's
hand now rested on the bridle.

"I can't tell how long I wa