tightening the silver screws--when, oh! horror! the lid was heaved up from within--crashing and splintering--and the dead sat upright! The distorted features were Mr. Ashlin's,--the yell, as he tossed his arms aloft,--Mr. Read's. "I will not die!" She was in the centre of the apartment; the cold beads dripping from her forehead, and her hair, dank and heavy, upon her face and neck. She put it back, and listened. The silence drove by her in waves--throbbed with the beatings of her heart. Hark! it was not all a dream! the pawing of hoofs rang upon the stones. The moon had set; and the lamp was brighter than the starlight. She had the presence of mind to creep to that side of the window hidden by the shutter, and looked out. A carriage was at the door--in appearance like the doctor's. He had been summoned--the sick man was worse. Something light and white sailed past her window, from overhead; as it fluttered to the ground, a tall figure stepped from the vehicle, and caught it to his bosom. The apparition of the Arch-Fiend himself would not have shaken Ida, as did that manly form. She was awake! A stealing step fell, softly as a snow-flake, upon the floor above--she heard it. With the speed of light, she flew to the front door--locked it--to that at the other extremity of the passage--hid both keys beneath the cushion of the hall-sofa, and back again to the street entrance, as Mrs. Read, dressed for travelling, had her foot upon the lowest stair. The fugitive leaned against the wall for support, faint with the terrors of detected guilt. "Back!" said Ida--her cheek bloodless--her eyes flashing living fire. "False to your word! false to your sex! I will save you from public disgrace! Back! I say!" "Not while I live!" was the answer. "And you cross this threshold over my body!" cried the girl, passionately. "Oh! shame! shame! you--the pride and idol of your family and your husband! that you should break their hearts and disgrace his name!" "It is not my name after I leave this--I shall forget and be forgotten. Let me go!" "Forget! forgotten! you may! a false woman can forget the mother who reared her! but the stain upon them! your tears, nor _his_ blood can cleanse it!" "You are mad!" said Mrs. Read, regaining her composure. "You cannot stop me. My home is in another land. Why do you talk of disgrace? the brutal dotard I fly from, will unfasten my legal fetters, and then I shall _live_! the life for which my Creator destined me!"