She gave the poor creature a warm bath, clothed her skeleton limbs in soft and comfortable apparel, and shingled her long, inextricably tangled hair close to her head.

This done she proceeded to put her to bed and feed her with warm and nourishing food.

The poor, starved woman could scarcely realize her good fortune.

She lay looking about her at the pleasant little room with its neat carpet and curtains, its comfortable bed and cheery fire, and feared it was all a dream from which she would awaken to the horrors of her lonely, fireless dungeon.

But the gentle voice of her hostess soothed away her fears and lulled her into profound and restful sleep.

For several days the most of her time was spent in eating and sleeping.

The warm room and nourishing food seemed to induce slumber, and she began to improve very slowly, but still so perceptibly that when the detective came to see her after the lapse of a week he was delighted at the change.

"Mrs. Mason, you must be a capital nurse," said he, smiling. "Your patient looks very well, and begins to improve at a rate I hardly dared hope for; I should scarcely have known her."

"And, but for your timely help I should have been dead ere this," said the invalid, giving him a grateful look from her large, hollow, dark eyes. "I owe you my life. I do not know how to thank you."

"Do not try," answered the detective, feeling shy under the grat.i.tude that was about to be showered upon him. "The revelation you made me when I found you fully repays the debt."

"Ah! that dear girl," sighed f.a.n.n.y. "Have you learned anything further about her, Mr. Shelton?"

He shook his head sadly.

"I am sorry to say I have not. The wretches have eluded me in some way, and managed to remove her without my knowledge. But I do not despair of catching up with them yet, and restoring the unfortunate young creature to her friends."

"G.o.d grant you may," she murmured, fervently.

"There is one thing I wish to ask you," said he, suddenly. "When you were telling me your story that day in the dungeon, you made an a.s.sertion that threw a new light on the subject of Miss Lawrence's supposed death."

"Ah! what was that?" she inquired.

"You know, or, perhaps, you do not know," said he, "that the jury's verdict was suicide. Yet you made the a.s.sertion that she was murdered by a jealous woman."

"Miss Lawrence was my informant, sir," answered Mrs. Colville. "Perhaps she knew all the circ.u.mstances better than the jury."

"No doubt she did," he answered, smiling at her demure tone. "And the woman?"

"Was a beautiful widow who lives under the Lawrence roof, and is dependent on the banker for the very means of existence. I cannot recall her name, for I have a peculiar faculty for forgetting names, but perhaps you have heard it."

"I have," he answered, gravely. "And indeed it amazes me. It pa.s.ses belief that she should have struck a blow so terrible at the heart of Mr. Lawrence, to whom she owes nothing but grat.i.tude."

"She was maddened by jealousy, sir. She loved the young man whom Lily Lawrence was on the point of marrying. I heard this from the young girl's own lips. She told me she had long before suspected her love, and pitied her sincerely, without a thought of the cruel vengeance she was about to take."

"Cruel! It was fiendish," said Mr. Shelton.

"Yes, sir, it was fiendish. She crept into the room while Miss Lawrence was trying on her wedding-dress, caught up a dagger from the table, and exclaimed, as she plunged it into her victim's heart: 'Girl, you shall die because Lancelot Darling loves you!'"

"Horrible!" exclaimed the detective.

"Miss Lawrence became immediately unconscious," continued Mrs. Colville, "and does not know how the woman left the room after locking her door on the inside, but thinks it probable she slid down the long vine that runs up to her chamber window."

"It is very probable she did," said Mr. Shelton. "Heavens! what a tissue of crime and villany has been woven about the innocent life of that beautiful girl! But I will see her righted, I swear it by all that I hold most sacred. And then let Mrs. Vance and Pratt and Colville look to themselves. I hold the evidences of their crime in my hands now. They only bide my time to see the inside of a prison cell!"

Mrs. Mason, sitting with her knitting, had been an interested listener to the above conversation. The detective turned to her now, saying kindly:

"We have been discussing secrets very freely in your presence, my kind hostess, but I suppose you know how to keep silence regarding them."

"Wild horses should not drag a word from me, sir, without permission,"

replied she, earnestly.

"I fully believe it," answered Mr. Shelton. "Therefore I shall commission Mrs. Colville to take you fully into our confidence after I leave here. You will thereby hear a very romantic story regarding the young lady whom you so n.o.bly befriended some time ago."

"Bless her sweet face! I never shall forget her," said Mrs. Mason, on whom indeed that little incident had made a deep and lasting impression.

"I hope you may yet have the pleasure of meeting her under more favorable auspices," said the detective, strong in the faith that he should yet rescue Lily from her cruel and unrelenting captors.

"Mr. Shelton," said the invalid, abruptly, "I have been thinking of sending for my poor old mother from the country. I must tell you that I ran away from home to marry that villain, Colville. I have never seen my poor old mother since, but I sent her my marriage certificate to keep for me, and to a.s.sure her that I was an honorable wife. I have never seen or heard from her since. I would like to see her very much."

"Well?" he said, as she paused, looking wistfully at him.

"Would you advise me to send for her?" asked f.a.n.n.y.

Mr. Shelton took down a little mirror hanging over the small toilet table and held it before her face.

"Is it possible your mother would recognize you?" he inquired, gently.

Poor f.a.n.n.y did not know how sadly she was changed before. She looked at herself and shuddered.

"Oh! no, sir!" said she, mournfully; "I was a black-eyed, rosy-cheeked young girl when I left home. I am a gray-headed skeleton now."

"Then take my advice and wait a little while. In the meantime, let Mrs.

Mason feed you and nurse you until you get some flesh on your limbs, and some color in your ghostly face. Then as soon as you get strong enough to travel, I myself will take you home to your mother."

"Oh! thank you, thank you; that will be best," she murmured, gratefully.

"No thanks," he answered, and bidding them adieu, he went hurriedly away.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

Lily Lawrence leaned back in the physician's carriage and wept silently as she was whirled onward to her new prison.

Her companions were very taciturn. Doctor Pratt was driving and gave the most of his attention to his task. Beyond one or two questions as to her comfort he did not address either Lily or Colville. The latter sat entirely silent opposite the young girl through the whole time.

At length, after several miles of rapid driving the carriage came to a pause, and the young girl was lifted out in front of a large, frowning brick edifice which loomed up gloomily in the darkness of the chilly night. She was led up a flight of stone steps and Doctor Pratt rang the bell.