ave this paper where it is all written out. Read
this;" and he handed the other paper to Hilda. She took it
mechanically, and read as follows:

"My name is not Krieff. I am a miserable villain, but I was once
named Pemberton Pomeroy, of Pomeroy, Berks. I fell into vice early in
life, and was expelled the army for gaming. I changed my name then to
Redfield Lyttoun. I fell in with Lady Mary Chetwynde. She was
thoughtless, and liked my attentions. I knew she was piqued at her
husband's act in leaving his party and losing his prospects. Out of
spite she listened to me and ran off with me. Neville followed us and
rescued her from me before it was too late. She acted out of a mad
impulse in flying, and repented bitterly. My brother saved her. Let
all know that I, Pemberton Pomeroy, eloped with poor Lady Chetwynde,
and that she was saved by Neville Pomeroy. Let the world know, too,
that I, Pemberton Pomeroy, forged a hundred thousand dollars, and my
brother paid it, and saved me. I write this in cipher, and am a
villain and a coward too.

"Oh, may God have mercy on my wretched soul! Amen."

On reading this Hilda then compared it with the other paper. She saw
at once that the lines which she had translated were only fragmentary
portions that happened to read from left to right. Doubt was
impossible, and this which Obed Chute gave her was the truth. She
laid the paper down, and looked thoughtfully away. There were several
things here which disturbed her, but above all there was the name
mentioned at the outset. For she saw that the man who had written
this had once gone by the name of Krieff.

"I think it my duty," said Obed Chute, "to give you a full
explanation, since you have asked it. The parties concerned are now
all dead, and you claim to be the daughter of one of them. There is
therefore no reason why I should not tell you all that I know. I have
made up my mind to do so, and I will.

"Neville Pomeroy, then, was an English gentleman. I have seen much of
Britishers, and have generally found that in a time of trial the
English gentleman comes out uncommonly strong. I got acquainted with
him in an odd kind of way. He was a young fellow, and had come out to
America to hunt buffaloes. I happened to be on the Plains at the same
time. I was out for a small excursion, for the office at New York was
not the kind of place where a fellow of my size could be content all
the time. We heard a great row--uns firing, Indians yellin