She fell away from the girl as she spoke, but Elsie did not attempt to rise; she lay still now, exhausted by her recent violence, and reassured by Elizabeth's promise. Again the woman leaned against the window-sill and looked out towards the tree. Mellen was at work still, more furiously than ever, throwing up great shovelsful of earth and dashing them down with frantic haste. "Is he there yet?" called Elsie. "Yes, yes! How he works--dig--dig--dig!" She stopped suddenly: the silence raised wilder horror in Elsie's mind. "Has he found it?" "Not yet. He is standing still now, he is throwing the earth back." "What now--what now?" called Elsie, when Elizabeth paused. "He is looking about--he is puzzled. There is only that place left--he will miss it. The shadows are blackest there." Another instant of intent watching, then a low cry. "He is there--he is there!" "Stop him!" shrieked Elsie. "Shout to him!" Elizabeth whispered hoarsely: "Too late! too late!" "Is he digging?" "Yes; wait--wait!" She clutched the window-sill until her nails bent and broke against the woodwork. "First on one side, then the other," she whispered. "He doesn't touch the right spot--I know it so well--night and day I have seen it----" "Elizabeth! Elizabeth!" She never heeded the mad cry, pressed closer and closer to the window-frame, staring out as if every energy of her nature was centred in that gaze. "He has not found it! He stops again--he throws down the spade! He is stamping on the ground. Oh! once more!" Then another pause, and at last Elizabeth cried in the same sharp whisper: "He is throwing the earth back--he turns away!" "Saved! saved!" shrieked Elsie. Elizabeth watched her husband's movements still. He stood for some moments in quiet, then walked about the tree; she could feel the baffled rage that shook him. He turned away at last and disappeared around the corner of the house. Then Elizabeth sprang to her feet. "Where are you going?" cried Elsie. "Lie still--don't speak, on your life!" She ran to the door and locked it, then threw herself down by the fire. "He might come in and find us," she whispered. Elsie crept across the floor again, seeking protection at her side. There they waited, hushing their breaths, listening for the echo of his step on the stairs. It came at last, muffled and cautious, but terribly distinct to their strained senses. He half paused at the room where they were, passed on, the door of his chamber opened and shut. "He has gone in," said Elizabeth. "Saved! saved!" broke again from Elsie, but there was no answering echo from the woman by her side. For a time they sat motionless, whether moments or hours neither of them ever could have told. CHAPTER LXII. UNDER THE CEDAR. At last Elizabeth rose, moved noiselessly across the chamber, while Elsie raised her head to look. "What are you going to do?" she asked. "You know," Elizabeth answered. "You won't--you can't! Oh, wait--wait!"