e-woman anxiously, and all at once assuming the haughty air natural
to her, while a keen intelligence came to her features.

"No," answered Agnes, "she is ill in bed; I am sure she has not seen him
this morning. It must have been accident that brought him in this
direction."

The slave-woman looked searchingly in the girl's face.

"Did he know that you came this way?"

"That is impossible."

"It should not be impossible. You have been months in his house,
Agnes--I did not expect so little progress."

Agnes was annoyed, and put aside the subject with an impatient gesture.

"What have you been doing, girl?" persisted the woman, "remember your
own destiny is in this more than mine."

"But why select this man, so difficult of access, so unattainable?"

"Because he has wealth and power."

"There is some other reason, mammy. Let me know it!"

"Well, know it, then--I believe that woman loves him--I know that she
loved him once."

"I know that she loves him _yet_," said Agnes, with a sinister smile.
"For I witnessed a scene last night, when she came to after they had
dragged her from the water, which settled that in my mind; but what do
you care for that? How will it help us?"

"What do I care for that--I--I--what does the hungry man care for food,
or the thirsty one for water? What do I care, child? Listen: I hate that
woman--from my soul I hate her!"

"Then it was hatred of her, not love for me, that brought us here!"

"It was both, Agnes--do not doubt it. When I avenge the wrongs of my
life on her, you must be a gainer."

"I do not understand you."

"It is not necessary; obey me, that is enough."

"But how has Mrs. Harrington wronged you?"

"How has she wronged me, Agnes! Be quiet, I am not to be questioned in
this way."

"But, I am no longer a child to be used blindly. You have objects which
I do not comprehend--motives which are so rigidly concealed that I, who
am to help work them out, grope constantly in the dark. I am told to
listen, watch, work, even steal, and am left ignorant of the end to be
accomplished."

"Have I not told you that it is your marriage with Mr. James Harrington,
the real owner of all the property which his father is supposed to
possess? Am I not working to make you the richest lady of the North, the
wife of a man whom all other men hold in reverence; and in this am I not
securing the dearest and sweetest vengeance that mortal ever tasted?"

"But I do not think Mr. Harring