guard's van, but it bore no the old remnants of tickets those of Paris and Hastings.

name or address, and upon it were merely

Late in the evening, having ascertained from my Bradshaw that we could not arrive in town (which place seemed to be the destination of my companion) for a good hour and a half at earliest, and that no station of importance intervened, I yielded to the pressing demands of exhausted nature, and fell asleep, being roused only by the demand of the ticket-collector just before we reached the great Metropolis. I started up, rubbed my eyes, looked round, and to my inexpressible disgust found myself alone in the carriage, all my trouble had been wasted by a slight imprudence at the last. The invalid had disappeared! He must have taken his departure at one of the small stations in the immediate vicinity of London.

The result was, a hasty remark to the porter who came to look after my luggage, which of course had been left at the Bridlinquay lodgings; a squabble with the cabman; a frightfully unamiable conversation with my excellent landlady, who came as usual to congratulate me on getting back, but who happened to have the house in confusion, not in the least expecting me; and a night of unrest in which I found myself perpetually chasing phantom strangers over railway embankments and through tunnels, losing myself and them, and leaving behind every vestige of my temper likewise.

So if the reader ever entertained the mistaken

belief that I, Paul Meredith, was a kind of model man, he is here plainly warned of his utter delusion at once and for ever; and if in his disappointment at the error he is inclined to retort that in his opinion Melanie is a hundred times too good for me; why, with sentiments of unmitigated wrath at his discovering it, I must on the whole, agree with him!

CHAPTER XVII.

TANGLES AND TRIALS.

"Alas! the world is full of peril!

The path that runs thro' the fairest meads,
On the sunniest side of the valley, leads
Into a region bleak and sterile!"

LONGFELLOW.

"For though her smiles were sad and faint,

And though her voice was low,
She never murmured a complaint,
Nor hinted at her woe,

Nor harboured in her gentle breast
The lightest thought of ill;
Giving all, forgiving all,
Pure and perfect still."

HAVING fairly arrived in London, it appeared doubtful whether it would be better to go back again to Bridlinquay, or to write there for my luggage to be returned. An evening at Leytonstow decided me. My friend Peter, unaware of my absence for a little more than a fortnight on the East Coast, mentioned that Miss Dalrymple had written to Mrs. Spriggs, with the information that they were all coming away again, especially since Melanie's

health, far from having benefited by the change, seemed during the last few days worse than usual.

After ascertaining that they had arrived at Forest Lodge, and giving them a week to settle down, I went over and was informed by the servant that Mr. and Miss Dalrymple were out at a dinner party in the neighbourhood, but that Mademoiselle de Ruisseau had not accompanied them.

Here was at last the very opportunity so frequently longed for. The announcement made me grow paler, and it was with no ordinary emotion that I crossed the drawing room and clasped Melanie's hand

Delightful omen, she was again wearing the rosette of parti-coloured ribbons.

Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes brightened as she looked into mine, but I soon saw that she was in reality thinner and paler and more languid than she had been in the summer.

She heard me with considerable composure and calmness, during my long narration of the strange facts that had been elicited respecting her guardian.

"I do not altogether feel surprised," she remarked, "somehow I had a strong presentiment that my guardian was wronging me all throughout, though not to this extent. My dislike to him has been increasingly great, it is useless to deny it; but what can all this avail me. My fate is fixed. There is still only one desolate and hopeless path before me, unless indeed—”

"Unless what, Melanie ?"

"It is impossible," she replied, "the very fabrication of all these villanies proves the perfect sanity of Monsieur Leroux."

"I seriously doubt that, it is an idea quite open to question, the villanies are of a very clumsy, foolhardy, reckless, and inconsistent character; and then remember his frequent liability to fits of depression, his fear of being haunted by some spectre, which of course must have existed merely in his imagination."

“Alas my friend, that is all only too easy to be explained, do not trust to it for one moment."

"Melanie, what is this mystery which surrounds you, what strange power can this man possess over you? Trust in me to remove and to combat it. Am I not nearer than before, and deserving of confidence ?"

"No nearer, I fear, the grave cannot give up its dead. There is only one faint hope, which has lately been made known to me, and which will be made the most of, but I dare not think about it yet. Forgive me, my friend, for saying more, I knew that you wish me well, you know my gratitude for all that you have done."

"One more question, and I have finished; has Mr. Leroux, or have any of his accomplices followed you with any persecutions at the sea-side, where you have been staying?"

"No; from Mr. Leroux I had not heard for a long time before this morning, and now he writes peremptorily for me to accompany him to Paris, and start within a fortnight."