ence. No one knew how it had happened; there
seemed to be no one left to tell the tale.

When Captain Frazier returned that evening and found the place in ruins,
he was almost wild with grief. In his own mind he felt that he knew how
it had come about.

In her desperation to get away, Gerelda had fired the house. But, for
all that, she had not succeeded in making her escape, as the flames must
have overtaken her.

Those who watched Captain Frazier had great difficulty in preventing
him from flinging himself headlong into the bay, he seemed so distracted
over the loss of Gerelda, the girl whom he loved so sincerely.

The truth of the matter was, Gerelda had not fired the place. It had
been caused by a spark from an open fire-place; and in the confusion and
the darkness of the night she had succeeded in making her way out of the
house and down to the shore.

With trembling hands she had untied one of the little boats which lay
there rocking to and fro, had sprung into it, and ere the flames burst
through the arched windows of the stone house she was far across the
bay, and was soon lost to sight in the darkness. She had taken the
precaution to seize a long cloak and veil belonging to the maid, and
these she proceeded to don while in the boat.

By daylight she found herself drifting slowly toward a little village,
and as the lights became clear enough to discern objects distinctly, she
saw that the place was Kingston.

At this Gerelda was overjoyed, for she remembered her old nurse, whom
she had not seen since early childhood, lived here. The sun was shining
bright and clear when Gerelda Northrup stepped from the boat and wended
her way up the grass-grown streets of the quaint little Canadian town.

By dint of inquiry here and there, she at length found the nurse's
home--a little cottage, almost covered with morning-glory vines, setting
back from the main road.

Although the nurse had not seen Gerelda since she was a little child,
she knew her the moment her eyes rested upon her face, and with a cry
of amazement she drew back.

"Gerelda Northrup!" she gasped. "Is it you, Miss Gerelda, or do my eyes
deceive me?"

She had heard of the great marriage that was to take place at the
Crossmon Hotel, at Alexandria Bay, and heard, too, the whispered rumor
of the bride-elect's flight; and to see her standing there before her
almost took Nurse Henderson's breath away.

She looked past Gerelda, expecting to see some tal