The very weakness of this girl seemed to give Elizabeth a sort of insane composure. "Let go my dress," she said; "I must be gone." "I can't stay here--I can't!" "Be still--you must, and shall!" She wrenched her garments from Elsie's hands, and the girl fell helplessly on the floor. "Let me creep into bed first," she moaned; "I shall run mad if you leave me here. Oh, I'll go--I ought to go! What an unnatural creature I am! I'll go!" "Don't talk--don't think--it is too late," whispered Elizabeth. "If you can pray, do it." "I can't--I daren't! Help me up, Elizabeth--help me up." But there was no response. Elizabeth was bending towards the window again, looking straight at the cypress tree; but the dread which had been in her face before was weak compared to the horror that convulsed it now. "He is going there!" she cried, in an awful voice. Elsie caught hold of her and raised herself so as to look out of the window. "Who--who? What do you mean?" "See--see!" continued Elizabeth. "Some one is creeping towards the cypress. He has a spade in his hand. Merciful God, it is too late!" "Is it Grantley?" shrieked Elsie. "Is it Grantley?" "There he goes! I told you I heard steps! My God! my God!" She fell on her knees by the window, still staring out into the spectral light. Elsie gave one glance, saw her brother walking towards the cypress, and then sank back, unable to venture another look. CHAPTER LXI. THE MIDNIGHT SEARCH. Alone in his room, Grantley Mellen had sat for hours with only stern thoughts for his companions, and they grew so black and fierce that the most terrible crisis would have been less hard to endure than that suspense. He waited silent, immovable, till the last sound in the house died away; waited still for slumber to overtake every inmate of the dwelling, that he might carry out the plan he had formed. He was going out to the cypress tree; he would discover if his wife's agitation, when he proposed digging about it, was in any way connected with the mystery which surrounded her. He believed that it was so, though in what manner it was impossible to divine. Perhaps there were letters hidden there--some condemning evidence against her which she had found no opportunity since his return to destroy. Whatever it was, he would discover it, drag it out, and with this fresh proof of her treachery in his hands, overwhelm her with a knowledge of her guilt. He, too, sat watching the clock, counting the strokes as the hours sounded, but to him the time appointed did not arrive quickly. It seemed as if the hands scarcely moved; in his mad impatience he thought the appointed instant never would approach. It was a terrible vigil that he kept; the strongest man could not for many hours have endured that strain of suspense, while tortured by such fiendish whispers as moaned in his ear.