tingle, and the nerves about your face quiver again. What a fool you would be, if you were blind, Austin."

So Captain Hertford, by such talk as this, was removed millions of miles from Austin's consideration. But when his clothes were off and he was horizontal in bed, the inexorable Captain reappeared. And Robin, the dog, who slept with Austin, got impressions, whether of thieves or fire I know not, which made him sit up till morn, and pant; for which he got his reward from the boot-rack at various times in the night; but still, after divers more or less dexterous retreats from flying boots, he sat up and panted conscientiously until morning dawned.

CHAPTER V.

WHAT was to be done? Lord Charles, his brother, and Austin all consulted, and the answer was,

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Nothing as yet." What could be done? The very slightest motion on their part would bring on the very meeting they dreaded; unless they resorted to civil protection, in which case there would be absolutely nothing to be done, according to their code, but for Austin to blow his brains out.

Poor Lord Edward, sitting in eternal darkness, not being able to know men's faces and what expression accompanied such and such words, formed a project which no one but a blind man or a madman would have formed. His project was this, to speak to Captain Hertford himself. He had been in Captain Hertford's company three or four times, and always when Eleanor was present. He had never seen his

cruel, gluttonous face, and he had only heard his voice; and the Captain's voice, in the presence of Eleanor, his benefactress, was not so unpleasant. It was subdued to a sulky, respectful sort of growl. And judging from his voice alone, and, pluming himself on his shrewdness, Lord Edward came to the conclusion that he was not quite so bad as the others wanted to make him out; that, at all events, he would try what could be done with him. I must tell you how he fared.

He

Captain Hertford's plan of operations just at this time was most certainly nearly the same as that which he unfolded to the Frenchman at the billiardtable. But we must remember that he was a stupid man, whose cunning was of a very low order. had, as he most truly said, a secret of Eleanor's by which he might extort money from her; but when that secret was known to Austin, as he felt sure it would be on the very day of their marriage, he had cunning enough to know, that it would be worth much less in Austin's hands than in hers. Moreover, were Austin out of the way, and he safe abroad, he felt sure that Aunt Maria had still power enough to scold Eleanor into going abroad, in which case he hoped to get her to consent to marry him.

Here is where the man's low cunning failed him utterly. Eleanor had always been so gentle and so kind to him, for the sake of what he had done for her and for the power that he still held in his hands; that the fool never dreamed that she loathed his presence, and that she hated the day when she first saw him.

Eleanor, in addition to her own terrible domestic troubles-tangible every-day troubles-which she and her faithful old footman bore patiently together: had got, from her native shrewdness, a terror lest Captain Hertford should conceive the plan of doing exactly what he was thinking of doing now-involving Austin in a quarrel, killing him, and getting her abroad, under the sole protection of her aunt, whose madness was developing day by day.

That is what was the matter with Aunt Maria. She was getting mad. Her fierce fits of scolding were becoming fiercer, and sometimes her maid would come up terrified into Eleanor's room in the dead of night, and they two would listen to the dreadful old woman scolding away to herself below, as if her maid was present.

Poor Eleanor did not know which way to turn among all these terrible apprehensions. But she made

a solemn vow to herself,-that if Austin were killed and she forced abroad, that she would embrace the Popish faith, and claim the protection of the good Archbishop of Paris, whom she knew.

So that as Captain Hertford's scheme stood at present, she would have utterly wrecked it. But Lord Edward Barty changed the Captain's scheme, and it was never put in execution. Captain Hertford formed another one, and we shall see how that succeeded.

One pleasant morning in this May month, date I should say about the 12th, Eleanor and the worthy Captain sat together in Eleanor's drawing-room in Wilton Crescent. They were quite silent. Some commonplaces had passed, Hertford had brought her some Cape jessamine, and she had thanked him, and relapsed into silence, wondering whether he had anything to say; rather wishing he would go, but on the whole taking rather more notice of Robin, who had come to her on a furtive visit, than of the honourable and gallant gentleman.

Her regular, rather small features, had become somewhat pinched and worn lately, and her air was a little languid. Her eyes were as brilliant as ever, but her mouth was more closely set; and altogether