“Hi, Miss Hannah, didn’t Jovial, and Mrs. Spicer, and Madam Brudenell herself tell me?  And besides I seen the young cre’tur’ myself, with my own eyes, dressed in deep mourning, which it was a fine black crape dress out and out, and a sweet pretty cre’tur’ she was too, only so pale!”

“Hannah!” screamed Nora, starting up, “it is false!  I know it is false! but I shall go raving mad if I do not prove it so!” And she rushed to the door, tore it open, and ran out into the night and storm.

“What in the name of the law ails her?” inquired Mrs. Jones.

“Nora!  Nora!  Nora!” cried Hannah, running after her.  “Come back! come in! you will get your death!  Are you crazy?  Where are you going in the snowstorm this time of night, without your bonnet and shawl, too?”

“To Brudenell Hall, to find out the rights of this story” were the words that came from a great distance wafted by the wind.

“Come back! come back!” shrieked Hannah.  But there was no answer.

Hannah rushed into the hut, seized her own bonnet and shawl and Nora’s, and ran out again.

“Where are you going?  What’s the matter?  What ails that girl?” cried old Mrs. Jones.

Hannah never even thought of answering her, but sped down the narrow path leading into the valley, and through it up towards Brudenell as fast as the dark night, the falling snow, and the slippery ground would permit; but it was too late; the fleet-footed Nora was far in advance.

CHAPTER X.

THE RIVALS.

  One word-yes or no! and it means
  Death or life!  Speak, are you his wife?

  —­Anon.

Heedless as the mad, of night, of storm, and danger, Nora hurried desperately on.  She was blinded by the darkness and smothered by the thickly-falling snow, and torn by the thorns and briars of the brushwood; but not for these impediments would the frantic girl abate her speed.  She slipped often, hurt herself sometimes, and once she fell and rolled down the steep hill-side until stopped by a clump of cedars.  But she scrambled up, wet, wounded, and bleeding, and tore on, through the depths of the valley and up the opposite heights.  Panting, breathless, dying almost, she reached Brudenell Hall.

The house was closely shut up to exclude the storm, and outside the strongly barred window-shutters there was a barricade of drifted snow.  The roofs were all deeply covered with snow, and it was only by its faint white glare in the darkness that Nora found her way to the house.  Her feet sank half a leg deep in the drifts as she toiled on towards the servants’ door.  All was darkness there! if there was any light, it was too closely shut in to gleam abroad.

For a moment Nora leaned against the wall to recover a little strength, and then she knocked.  But she had to repeat the summons again and again before the door was opened.  Then old Jovial appeared—­his mouth and eyes wide open with astonishment at seeing the visitor.