s tempting me to ruin. I
must go--I must go!"

Her voice was little more than a whisper, but it sounded painfully sharp
and distinct. Elsie buried her face in both hands, once more to shut out
the images it conjured up.

"Come back!" she moaned; "Elizabeth, come back!"

"I must go. It is time."

"Wait--wait--just a moment! Don't go yet--don't leave me--I shall die
here alone."

Elsie dragged herself along the floor to where Elizabeth stood, and
caught her dress in a convulsive grasp.

"Wait a little--just a little?"

The very weakness of this girl seemed to give Elizabeth a sort of insane
composure.

"Let go my dress," she said; "I must be gone."

"I can't stay here--I can't!"

"Be still--you must, and shall!"

She wrenched her garments from Elsie's hands, and the girl fell
helplessly on the floor.

"Let me creep into bed first," she moaned; "I shall run mad if you leave
me here. Oh, I'll go--I ought to go! What an unnatural creature I am!
I'll go!"

"Don't talk--don't think--it is too late," whispered Elizabeth. "If you
can pray, do it."

"I can't--I daren't! Help me up, Elizabeth--help me up."

But there was no response. Elizabeth was bending towards the window
again, looking straight at the cypress tree; but the dread which had
been in her face before was weak compared to the horror that convulsed
it now.

"He is going there!" she cried, in an awful voice.

Elsie caught hold of her and raised herself so as to look out of the
window.

"Who--who? What do you mean?"

"See--see!" continued Elizabeth. "Some one is creeping towards the
cypress. He has a spade in his hand. Merciful God, it is too late!"

"Is it Grantley?" shrieked Elsie. "Is it Grantley?"

"There he goes! I told you I heard steps! My God! my God!"

She fell on her knees by the window, still staring out into the spectral
light. Elsie gave one glance, saw her brother walking towards the
cypress, and then sank back, unable to venture another look.

CHAPTER LXI.

THE MIDNIGHT SEARCH.

Alone in his room, Grantley Mellen had sat for hours with only stern
thoughts for his companions, and they grew so black and fierce that the
most terrible crisis would have been less hard to endure than that
suspense.

He waited silent, immovable, till the last sound in the house died away;
waited still for slumber to overtake every inmate of the dwelling, that
he might carry out the plan he had formed.

He was going out to the cypres