XLIII. ANOTHER RESPITE. 

 XLIV. THE SECRET OF THE WHEEL. 

 XLV. I MAKE A DESCENT. 

 XLVI. CAUGHT. 

 XLVII. SOME ONE COMES AND GOES. 

 XLVIII. A FRUITLESS SEARCH. 

 XLIX. A QUIET WARNING. 

 L. STRICKEN DOWN. 

 LI. A MEETING ON THE BRIDGE. 

 LII. A WRITTEN WORD. 

 LIII. AN ATTEMPT AND A FAILURE. 

 LIV. A LAST CONFESSION. 

 LV. A SHADOW FROM THE PAST. 

 LVI. ALONE. 

 LVII. A PROMISE. 

 LVIII. THE “SPECTER HOUND.” 

 LIX. INTO THE DEPTHS. 

 LX. WHO KILLED MODRED? 

 THE MILL OF SILENCE. 

 Yesterday came a knock at the door—a faint, tentative knock as from childish knuckles—and I went to see who it was. A queer little figure stood outside in the twilight—a dainty compendium of skirt and cape and frothy white frills—and a small elfish face looked up into mine through shimmering of hair, like love in a mist. 

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