The yellow reflection of the candle lit up a group of wondering faces that were turned upon the mother, who stood in the middle of the room. Her countenance was pale, for she had passed through a great deal during the last half-hour, to say nothing of that which preceded it. Before any one could frame the questions in his mind, she explains: "I am not sure I have done right, but Jennie's departure was with my consent. She and I talked it over and discussed it in all its bearings, so far as we could see them, and she finally persuaded me that it was the right thing for her to do." She paused, as if expecting some comment, but even Fred was silent; and still standing, with the candle held aloft, he kept his wondering gaze upon his parent. "In the first place, Jennie convinced me that Monteith would only go to his own death by venturing out; at any rate, it would so result if he did not receive the signal from Mr. Vesey." As she paused the amazed Sterry asked: "But why did she think I would venture unless I got the sign from Vesey?" "Because you told her so. You were so confident, when she expressed her misgivings, that you said you would wait a few minutes after 10 o'clock and then try it, even if no signal appeared." "You are correct; I _did_ tell her that." "I consented to her plan on condition that if Mr. Vesey signalled you should go and she should stay; if he did not do so, she was to venture alone." "Why didn't she consult with me?" asked Sterry; "I could have given her some suggestions." "Ah, what a question, Mont!" said Fred Whitney, with a smile, as he comprehended the plan; "we know what suggestions you would have given her." "True enough; she never would have made the attempt," he responded. "And," said Mrs. Whitney, "your friend has not called to you." "Which reminds me," exclaimed Sterry, stepping to the rear window and peering out. But everything in the direction of the stables was as dark and silent as the tomb. "So you see that if you had followed the directions of Mr. Vesey," continued Mrs. Whitney, "no messenger would have left this place for the camp of the stockmen." "I recall how closely she questioned me as to my idea of the course to take to reach the spot. I wanted to gain her confidence and told her everything, never suspecting that she entertained any such wild scheme." "For which you cannot be blamed," remarked her brother; "but I don't understand how she expected to slip off unobserved." "Nor do I," added Sterry, with a meaning glance at Capt. Asbury. "I assure you I am innocent of complicity in the matter, for I would have opposed as strongly as any of you." "It was that single difficulty which puzzled her," said the mother, "but Providence opened the way. While she stood trembling, with her cloak wrapped about her, Capt. Asbury called Monteith. I whispered to her 'Now!' and drew back the door. She stepped through, and was gone before any one, excepting myself, suspected anything."