girl, preoccupied with
an undefinable terror of that wicked woman, I had possessed courage and
presence of mind, I dare say I might have given an alarm, and escaped from
the room without the slightest risk. But so it was; I could no more stir
than the bird who, cowering under its ivy, sees the white owl sailing back
and forward under its predatory cruise.

Not only during her presence, but for more than an hour after, I remained
cowering in my hiding-place, and afraid to stir, lest she might either be
lurking in the neighborhood, or return and surprise me.

You will not be astonished, that after a night so passed I was ill and
feverish in the morning. To my horror, Madame de la Rougierre came to visit
me at my bedside. Not a trace of guilty consciousness of what had passed
during the night was legible in her face. She had no sign of late watching,
and her toilet was exemplary.

As she sat smiling by me, full of anxious and affectionate enquiry,
and smoothed the coverlet with her great felonious hand, I could quite
comprehend the dreadful feeling with which the deceived husband in the
'Arabian Nights' met his ghoul wife, after his nocturnal discovery.

Ill as I was, I got up and found my father in that room which adjoined his
bedchamber. He perceived, I am sure, by my looks, that something unusual
had happened. I shut the door, and came close beside his chair.

'Oh, papa, I have such a thing to tell you!' I forgot to call him 'Sir.' 'A
secret; and you won't say who told you? Will you come down to the study?'

He looked hard at me, got up, and kissing my forehead, said--'Don't be
frightened, Maud; I venture to say it is a mare's nest; at all events, my
child, we will take care that no danger reaches you; come, child.'

And by the hand he led me to the study. When the door was shut, and we had
reached the far end of the room next the window, I said, but in a low tone,
and holding his arm fast--

'Oh, sir, you don't know what a dreadful person we have living with
us--Madame de la Rougierre, I mean. Don't let her in if she comes; she
would guess what I am telling you, and one way or another I am sure she
would kill me.'

'Tut, tut, child. You _must_ know that's nonsense,' he said, looking pale
and stern.

'Oh no, papa. I am horribly frightened, and Lady Knollys thinks so too.'

'Ha! I dare say; one fool makes many. We all know what Monica thinks.'

'But I _saw_ it, papa. She stole your key last night, and opened