Anna hardly knew herself in this phase of her character, and her brother certainly did not.

“Don’t be hard on me, Anna,” he said, looking at her in a kind of dogged, uncertain way.  “I’ll do what you say, only don’t be hard.  It’s come so sudden, that my head is like a whirlpool.  Lily, Willie, Willie.  The child I saw, you mean—­yes, the child—­I—­saw—­did it say he—­was—­my—­boy?”

The words were thick and far apart.  The head drooped lower and lower, the color all left the lips, and in spite of Anna’s vigorous shakes, or still more vigorous hartshorn, overtaxed nature gave way, and the doctor fainted at last.  It was Anna’s turn now to wonder what she should do, and she was about summoning aid from some quarter when the door opened suddenly, and Hugh ushered in a stranger—­the convict, who had kept his word, and came to tell what he knew of this complicated mystery, about which every invited guest was talking, and which was keeping Ellen Tiffton at home in a fever of excitement to know what it all meant.

  “There will be no bridal at Spring Bank to-night, and if the invited
  guests have any respect for the family, they will remain quietly at
  home, restraining their curiosity until another day.

  “ONE WHO HAS AUTHORITY”

Such were the contents of the ten different notes left at ten different houses in the neighborhood of Spring Bank that April day, by a strange horseman, who carried them all himself and saw that they were delivered.

The rider kept on his way, reining his panting steed at last before the door of Spring Bank, and casting about him anxious glances as he sprang up the steps.  There was nobody in sight but Hugh, who was expecting him, and who, in reply to his inquiries for the doctor, told where he was, and that a stranger was with him.  There was a low, hurried conversation between the two, a partial revelation of the business which had brought Sullivan to the house where were congregated so many of his victims; and at its close Hugh’s face was deadly white, for he knew now that he had met Dr. Richards before, and that ’Lina could not be his wife.

“The villain!” he muttered, involuntarily clinching his fist as if to smite the dastard as he followed Sullivan into the parlor, starting back when he saw the prostrate form upon the floor, and heard the lady say:  “My brother, sir, has fainted.”

She was Anna, then; and Hugh guessed rightly why she was there.

“Madam,” he began, but ere another word was uttered, there fell upon his ear a shriek which seemed to cleave the very air and made even the fainting man move in his unconsciousness.

It was Mrs. Worthington, who, with hands outstretched as if to keep him off, stood upon the threshold, gazing in mute terror at the horror of her life, whispering incoherently:  “What is it, Hugh?  How came he here?  Save me, save me from him!”

A look, half of sorrow, half of contempt, flitted across the stranger’s face as he answered for Hugh kindly, gently:  “Is the very sight of me so terrible to you, Eliza?  I am only here to set matters right.  Here for our daughter’s sake.  Eliza, where is our child?”