Twice old Adam paused, the perspiration pouring down his face like rain.

He was about to cry out:  “I cannot go on with this uncanny work,” but each time the cold steel of the revolver was pressed to his throbbing brow, and the harsh voice of the muffled stranger said:  “Go on; your work is almost accomplished.”

CHAPTER IX.

“There must not be A single trace left to mark the spot of the grave you are now digging,” Said the muffled stranger.

The old grave digger worked on faster and faster by the fitful light of the carriage lamp, with the wild night winds howling about him, and the perspiration streaming down his face, as the stranger stood over him covering his heart with the deadly revolver.

“That will do, my man,” he said, as old Adam paused for breath a moment.  “That is deep enough, I guess.  It will not take long to place its future tenant therein; then you must replace the earth and pack the snow so carefully about it that it would not attract the attention of the casual passer-by.  Do you comprehend?”

“Yes,” answered the old grave digger, and it seemed to him that his own voice sounded like nothing human.

The stranger turned and walked leisurely to the coach in waiting.

Old Adam would have fled from the spot in mortal terror, but that his limbs were trembling and refused to carry him.

He leaned heavily on his spade, asking himself in growing fright—­what terrible mystery was this that fate had drawn him into, and awaiting with quaking heart what would follow.

He had not long to wait.  The stranger who had stepped to the carriage evidently proposed to lose no time.

In less time than it takes to recount it, he had lifted from the vehicle a slender figure, closely wrapped in a long dark garment, and as he did so a second person stepped from the coach—­a man, closely muffled like his companion—­and wearing his soft hat pulled low over his eyes.

One glance at the flickering light of the carriage lamp fell upon them, bearing the slender figure between them, and old Adam’s heart fairly stood still with horror.

He recognized them at once as the parties who had stood before the altar in the old stone church scarcely an hour before.

Great God! could it be?  Ah, yes, it must be the body of the beautiful, hapless young bride they were bringing to this wild and lonely grave.

How did she happen to die?  She who had been so full of bounding life but one short hour before—­only the all-seeing eye of the God above could tell—­ay, could solve this horrible mystery.

Another moment, and in utter silence, the slender figure was lowered into the frozen ground by the two strangers.