“She did not think so then, but she knows now. I will live to avenge her. I ask from Heaven no greater favor than that I may bring the murderer to justice. I shall do it, Ronald; a certain instinct tells me so. When I do, I shall show him no mercy; he showed none to her. If the mother who bore him knelt at my feet and asked me to have pity on him, I would not. If the child who calls him father clung round my neck and prayed me with tears and asked for mercy, I would show none.” “Nor would I,” said Sir Ronald. Then Kenelm Eyrle bent down over the dead body. “Good-by, my love,” he said, “until eternity; good-by.” With reverent hands he drew the white lace round her, and left her to the deep, dreamless repose that was never more to be broken. He went downstairs with Sir Ronald, but he did not enter the library again. “I am going home,” he said. “I shall not intrude any longer, Ronald.” “You will come to-morrow?” said Sir Ronald, as Kenelm stood at the hall door. “Yes, I will pay her that mark of respect,” he said, “and I will live to avenge her.” So they parted, and Sir Ronald, going back to the old seat in the library, remained there until morning dawned. CHAPTER VI. KENELM EYRLE’S VOW. In the picturesque and beautiful country of Loamshire they still tell of the funeral, the extraordinary crowd of people assembled to pay the last mark of homage to Lady Clarice Alden. Perhaps most pity of all was given to the hapless lady’s mother, Mrs. Severn, a handsome, stately, white-haired old lady, little accustomed to demonstration of any kind. She had apologized for her excessive grief by saying to every one: “She was my only child, you know, and I loved her so dearly--my only one.” The long ceremony was over at last and the mourners returned to Aldenmere. The morning afterward the blinds were drawn. Once more the blessed sunlight filled the rooms with light and warmth; once more the servants spoke in their natural voices and the younger ones became more anxious as to whether their new mourning was becoming or not; but the master of the house was not sensible to anything--the terrible tragedy had done its worst; Sir Ronald Alden of Aldenmere lay in the clutches of fierce fever, battling for life. The sympathy of the whole neighborhood was aroused. The murder had been bad enough; but that it should also cause Sir Ronald’s death was too terrible to contemplate. Mrs. Severn remained to nurse her son-in-law; but after a time his illness became too dangerous, and the doctors sent for two trained nurses who could give the needful care to the sick man.