ce, "She was very, very ill last night,
but later on she dropped asleep, and I left her about three, perfectly
calm and peaceful."

Chester gazed at her wildly.

"Yes," he cried, "go on."

"I went in to see her at intervals of an hour, and she was still
sleeping calmly."

"And you have left her!" he cried angrily. "You should not have done
this."

"No; I ought not to have done this," said Isabel, sadly. "You placed
her in my charge, and I have betrayed your trust."

"What! What do you mean?"

"I went to her room about nine, and--"

"Yes," he cried, springing up and catching her arm so fiercely that her
pale, sad face grew full of suffering.

"Tell me; you are keeping something back."

"Must I tell you?" she said faintly.

"Yes, yes!" he cried. "Why do you torture me?"

"Fred, I was to blame," she said piteously. "I would have done anything
for your sake. I could not foresee it all. She has gone!"

"Gone?" he gasped.

She held out a letter addressed to him, and he snatched at it and tore
it open, to read with burning eyes:--

"Good-bye for ever. I love you too well to come between you and the
happiness that may some day be yours. Do not seek for me: my love would
prove a curse. I know it--I feel it. Forgive me the suffering I have
caused to you and the gentle woman who has tended me. She will forgive
you the past as I have prayed her to; and she will forgive me, knowing
as she does that it was in all innocency I did her that wrong. Think of
me as one who was not to blame for her position. I did not know
everything; they kept it from us weak women. I did know, though, that
they were engaged in some unlawful scheme, and prayed my brother to take
me away; but he could not shake off his bonds--I could not leave him.
Good-bye: think of me kindly. We shall never meet again."

Chester read to the last word, then turned half round and fell heavily
to the floor.

It was as if the tie which bound him to life had snapped in twain.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

WHY AND WHEREFORE.

The customary inquest followed, and after careful examination of the
various witnesses, and a visit to the place, the jury, by the coroner's
direction, returned a verdict of "wilful murder." Then the strange
affair passed into the hands of the police. The hounds of the law were
laid upon the scent, and they were active enough in their efforts to run
the Clareborough family down, but without success: for they had sud