She was growing both anxious and nervous, and thought she would just slip into Mrs. Montague’s bedroom and see if she could not get out in that way.

Suiting the action to the resolve, she hastened into the chamber, and tried the door.

No, that was locked on the outside, and she knew that the woman must have some evil purpose in thus making a prisoner of her.

She turned again to retrace her steps, that she might keep watch for Ray at the window, when her eyes encountered an object lying upon the bed which drove the color from her face, and held her rooted to the spot where she stood!

* * * * *

About nine o’clock of that same morning, a woman might have been seen walking swiftly down Murray street, in the direction of the Hudson River, to the wharf occupied by the Fall River steamers.

She was tall and quite stout, but had a finely proportioned figure, and she walked with a brisk, elastic tread, which betrayed great energy and resolution.

She was dressed in deep mourning, her clothing being made of the finest material, and fitting her perfectly.

A heavy crape vail covered her head and partially enveloped her figure, effectually concealing her features, and yet a close observer would have said that she had a lovely profile, and would have noticed, also, that her hair was a decided red.

She appeared to be in a hurry, looking neither to the right nor left, nor abating her pace in the least until she reached the dock where the Fall River boat, Puritan, had but a little while previous poured forth her freight of humanity and merchandise.

As she came opposite the gang-plank a low whistle caused her to look up.

A man stationed on the saloon deck, and evidently watching for some one, made a signal, and with a nod of recognition, the woman passed on board and up the stairs to the grand saloon, where a man met her and slipped a key into her hand, then turned and walked away without uttering a word.

“Two hundred and one,” she muttered, and walked deliberately down the saloon glancing at the figures on the doors of the various staterooms until she came to No. 201, when she unlocked it and went in.

Ten minutes later the man who had stood on deck as she came aboard, followed her, entered the stateroom, and locked the door after him.

The two were closeted there for nearly an hour, when the woman in black came out.

“I shall look for you at three precisely; do not fail me,” said a low voice from behind the door.

“I will not fail you; but keep yourself close,” was the equally guarded response, and then the heavily draped figure glided quickly down stairs and off the boat.

She crossed West street, passed on to Chambers, and turned to walk toward Broadway, passing, as she did so, a group of three or four men who were standing at the corner.