city or on his
way here."

"Mr. Lytton will leave Wendover for Richmond by the earliest train
to-morrow. He will be here to-morrow evening," said Craven Kyte,
gravely.

"You are absolutely sure of this?" inquired Mrs. Grey.

"As sure of it as any one can be of any future event. His heavy baggage
came over from Blue Cliff Hall yesterday evening, and was left at the
station to be ready for transportation on Monday morning, when Mr.
Lytton intended to take the earliest train for this city."

"Then there can be no mistake," said Mary Grey.

"None whatever, I think."

"You say you have fulfilled all the conditions of our engagement?"

"Yes, dearest, I have indeed."

"How about those letters I inclosed to you to be re-mailed?"

"I received them all, and re-mailed them all. Did you get them? You
never acknowledged the receipt of one of them, however," said Craven
Kyte, thoughtfully.

"I got them all safe. There was no use in acknowledging them by letter,
as I expected to see you so soon, and could acknowledge them so much
better by word of mouth. But that is not exactly what I meant by my
question, darling. Of course I knew without being told that you had
re-mailed all those letters, as I had received them all."

"Then what was it you wished me to tell you, dearest Mary? Ask me
plainly. I will tell you anything in the world that I know."

"Only this: Did you post those letters with great secrecy, taking
extreme care that no one saw you do it?"

"My dearest, I took such care that I waited until the dead of night,
when no one was abroad in the village, and I stole forth then, and, all
unseen, dropped the letters into the night box."

"You darling! How good you are! What shall I ever do to repay you?"
exclaimed the traitress, with well-acted enthusiasm.

"Only love me--only love me! That will richly repay me for all. Ah, only
love me! Only love me truly and I will die for you if necessary!"
fervently breathed the poor doomed young man, fondly gazing upon her,
who, to gain her own diabolical end, was almost putting his neck into a
halter.

"You foolish darling! Why, you would break my heart by dying! You can
only make me happy by living for me," she said, with a smile.

"I would live for you, die for you, suffer for you, sin for you--do
anything for you, bear anything for you, be anything for you!" he burst
forth, in a fervor of devotion.

"There, there, dearest, I know you would! I know it all! But now tell