“The Devil!” cried Mathews, dropping the box, and staggering to his seat, a universal tremor perceptible in his huge limbs.  “Where—­where is he?”

“At your elbow,” said Mary.  “Don’t you see him frown and shake his head at you?  How fast the blood pours down from the wound in his head!  It is staining all your clothes.  Get up, William, and give the poor old man the chair.”

“Don’t mind her, Mathews, she is raving,” said Godfrey.  “Do you see anything?”

“I thought I saw a long, bony, mutilated hand, flitting to and fro, over the gold.  Ah! there it is again,” said Mathews, starting from his chair.  “You may keep the money, for may I be hanged if I will touch it.  Leave this accursed place and yon croaking fiend.  Let us join the boys down stairs, and drink and sing, and drive away care.”

And so the murderers departed, leaving the poor girl alone with the gold, but they took good care to lock the door after them.  When they were gone, Mary threw an old cloak about her, which formed part of the covering to the bed, and stepped upon the floor.

“They are gone,” she said; “I have acted my part well.  But, alas, this is no place for me.  I am called upon by God himself to save the innocent, and the mission shall be performed, even at the expense of my worthless life.

“They think not that I followed them to the spot—­that, weak as I am, God has given me strength to witness against them.  I feel ill, very ill,” she continued, putting her hand to her head.  “But if I could only reach the Lodge, and inform Captain Whitmore, or Miss Juliet, it might be the means of saving his life.  At all events, I will try.”

As she passed the gold that glittered in the moonbeams, she paused.  “I want money for my journey.  Shall I take aught of the accursed thing?  No.  I will trust in Providence to supply my wants.  I have read somewhere that misery travels free.”

Then slowly putting on her clothes, and securing a slice of coarse bread, that Mrs. Strawberry had brought for her supper, in her handkerchief, Mary approached the window.  The distance was not great to the roof of the lean-to, and she had been used to climb tall forest trees when a child, and fearlessly to drop from any height.  She unclosed the casement and listened.  She heard from below loud shouts and boisterous peals of laughter, mingled with licentious songs and profane oaths.

When the repentant soul is convinced of sin, how dreadful does the language once so familiar appear!  The oath and the profane jest smite upon it with a force which makes it recoil within itself; and it flies for protection to the injured Majesty it so often wantonly defied.  “Alas, for the wicked!” said Mary. “’Destruction and misery are in their paths, and the way of peace they have not known.’  How long have I, in word, thought and deed, blasphemed the majesty of the Most High, and rebelled against his holy laws!  Ought I then to condemn my fellows in iniquity?  Am I in reality any better than they?  I will go to the grave of my child—­that sight will make me humble—­that little mound of dark earth holds all that the world now contains for me.”