As Wilkinson said this, he turned away and left the room.  Carlton was in no hurry to follow.  When, at length, he came down, and made inquiry for the one he had dealt by so treacherously, the man, who was shutting the windows of the bar-room, and about locking up for the night, replied that he had not seen him.

“Not seen him?” he asked, in a tone of surprise.

“No, sir.  He didn’t come in here.”

The hostler was aroused from his sleeping position on a bench in the corner, and directed by Carlton to bring out his buggy.  During the time he was away, the latter made a hurried search in and around the house.  Not finding the object thereof, he muttered, in an under tone, a few wicked oaths; then, jumping into his vehicle, he put whip to his horse, and dashed off towards the city.  He had Wilkinson’s due-bills in his pocket for various sums, amounting, in all, to nearly two thousand dollars!

CHAPTER VIII.

Almost motionless, with her sleeping babe upon her lap, sat Mrs. Wilkinson for nearly half an hour after her husband left the house.  She saw nothing that was around her—­heard nothing—­felt nothing.  Not even the breathings of her sleeping infant reached her ear; nor was she conscious of the pressure of its body against her own.  Fixed in a dreamy, inward gaze were her eyes; and her soul withdrew itself from the portal at which, a little while before, it hearkened into the world of nature.  At last there came a motion of the eyelids—­a quivering motion—­then they closed, slowly, over the blue orbs beneath; and soon after a tear trembled out to the light from behind the barriers that sought to retain them.  A deep, fluttering sigh succeeded to this sign of feeling.  Then her lips parted, and she spoke audibly to herself.

“Oh, that I knew how to win him back from the path of danger!  He does not love his home; and yet how have I striven to make it attractive!  How much have I denied myself! and how much yielded to and thought of him!  He is always kind to me; and he—­yes—­I know he loves me; but—­ah!”

The low voice trembled back sighing into silence.  Still, for a long time, the unhappy wife sat almost as motionless as if in sleep.  Then, as some thought grew active towards a purpose in her mind, she arose, and laying Ella on the bed, began busying herself in some household duties.

The afternoon passed slowly away, yet not for a moment was the thought of her husband absent from the mind of Mrs. Wilkinson.

“What ought I to do?  How shall I make his home sufficiently attractive?”

This was her over and over again repeated question; and her thoughts bent themselves eagerly for some answer upon which her heart might rest with even a small degree of hope.

The prolonged, intense anxiety and alarm of the previous night, added to bodily fatigue and loss of rest, were not without their effect upon Mrs. Wilkinson.  Early in the day she suffered from lassitude and a sense of exhaustion; and, after dinner, a slight headache was added; this increased hourly, and by four o’clock was almost blinding in its violence.  Still, she tried to forget herself, and what she suffered in thinking about and devising some means of saving her husband from the dangers that lay hidden from his own view about his footsteps.