s house until after the Waltons
have left the city. Do you consent to these terms?"

"I suppose I must."

"Then the matter is settled. Remember the hours; I shall know if my
injunctions are disregarded, and you will fare the worse for it."

"Fear not. Come to reflect, I like your plan better than my own, as there
is less danger in it every way."

"Enough. Good night."

"Hold a moment. Is there any fastening on the door between the rooms, on
the side in number seventeen?"

"There is; but I will take care of that; and you know no one, unless well
acquainted with the spot, could tell there was a door there."

"True, true--I had forgotten that fact."

"Oh, I forgot one prohibition. You must in no case let a ray of light into
seventeen. It might render all our precautions abortive, and defeat their
object."

"Very well. I will be careful."

"Do so, and all will be well. Of course, no noise, even as loud as a
whisper, must be heard in the lady's room."

"I will be discreet; trust me for that. I am glad you have come to the
rescue; I find there is nothing like a woman's wit."

"Take care, then, that you are never _outwitted_ by them!"

"Not much fear of that while I have such an ingenious ally!"

"Take good care to keep her an ally; as an enemy, she might be equally
ingenious."

And so they parted. As she left the room, she mentally exclaimed:

"'Come to the rescue!' Yes, I am truly glad I have!"

The guests retired to their beds, and all was still as the solemn silence
of midnight. The old clock in the corner tolled the hour of eleven, and
half an hour afterward, a stealthy tread might have been heard along the
partition dividing the two rooms already named. Soon a door slowly opened
on its rusty hinges, and in the rayless darkness Durant entered the number
containing his victim. He reached the couch, and paused to assure himself
that all was as he desired. His ear was saluted with a heavy breathing, as
of one in deep sleep.

"All right!" he muttered within himself. "My hour has come. The vengeance
of the '_dog_' shall be complete! Oh, but how I will glory in _my_ triumph,
and the proud one's disgrace! I'll make her _feel_ what it is to insult a
nobleman by blood! Gods, how the memory burns my brain of that indignity!
An unknown girl to scorn and cast contumely upon one of England's line of
lords! This night be the stain wiped out!"

Lost! lost! _lost_! demon! from thy presence we turn away! Villain and