There was terror in her voice which communicated itself to the woman sitting so apathetically in her chamber. She rose and opened the door, whispering, in a voice full of alarm: "What is it? What is it?" Elsie pushed her back into the room, shut and locked the door, and staggered to a couch. "The cypress tree!" she gasped. "They are going there." "Who?" cried Elizabeth. "What do you mean?" "I can't speak--oh, I am choking!" gasped Elsie. Elizabeth seized her arm, and fairly shook her with frenzied impatience. "Speak!" she exclaimed. "Speak, I say!" "Grant has sent old Jarvis to dig about the roots," returned Elsie, in a shrill whisper. Elizabeth Mellen sank slowly upon her knees, her limbs giving way suddenly, as if she had been struck with paralysis. She caught at Elsie's dress, the girl raised herself, and there they remained for several moments, staring in each others' faces, with a white, sickening terror, which could find no relief in words. After a time Elizabeth shook herself free from Elsie's grasp and rose; the power to think and act was coming back to her. "You heard them say this?" she asked. "Yes, yes!" cried Elsie. "Grant sent for old Jarvis to come up and dig round the tree; he thinks it is dying." Elizabeth threw up her arms in silence, more expressive of agony than a shriek. "It has come at last!" broke from her white lips. "It has come at last!" Elsie cowered down upon the sofa and buried her head in the cushions, shaking with hysterical tremors from head to foot, and uttering repressed sobs. "Exposure--ruin--disgrace!" moaned Elizabeth, as if repeating words that some secret voice whispered in her ear. "It has come at last! It has come at last!" "I shall die!" shrieked Elsie. "I shall go mad!" She beat the couch wildly with her clenched hands and gave way to a violent nervous spasm, but this time Elizabeth made no effort to soothe her; she stood there, cold and white, repeating at intervals, in that dismal whisper: "It has come at last! It has come at last!" "Do something," sobbed Elsie. "Don't stand there as if you were turning to stone. Think of some way to stop them." "What can I do?" returned Elizabeth. "I tell you it has come! I knew it, I have been expecting it!" Elsie gave another shriek, sprang off the sofa, threw herself at her sister's feet, clutching her dress with both hands, and cried out: "Do something--anything! I shall go crazy--my brain is burning! I won't live--I tell you I won't live if you don't stop this." Elizabeth shook off her grasp, not angrily, not impatiently even, but with a sudden change of expression, as if Elsie's despair had brought back some half-forgotten resolution, and given her wild strength once more. "You will not suffer," she said, drearily. "You are safe." "But you--what will become of you?" groaned the girl. "Let go my dress--get up, Elsie! See, I am calm. I tell you, no harm will come to you--get up."