Eliza Fleming made the acquaintance of her young female guest, and every fresh insight into Miss Walton's character made her regret the hard necessity she was under of doing her an injury. She had a hard struggle in her mind, but at length her determination was fixed. To procure the ruin of the innocent guest, (for she had thoroughly satisfied herself that Miss Walton _was_ innocent and virtuous,) whom every obligation of hospitality required her to protect, was indeed damnable; but to forfeit the hand of Durant under the circumstances was impossible, and not to be thought of. Poor Ellen! Heaven shield thee! Durant was not seen by any of the Waltons, as it was his object to keep them in entire ignorance of his proximity until such time as he chose to reveal himself. Miss Fleming knew where to find him; and, according to agreement, met him during the evening, to arrange some matters connected with the plot. "Louis, you have required too much at my hands in this affair. I fear I shall not be able to comply with the terms of agreement." "Then return my written promise of marriage, and live to be despised and a by-word among men! I thought the matter was definitely settled, and that you had resolved to save your own honor and name at every hazard." "But is this my only hope?" "Yes, as true as there is a God in heaven, it is. I will forsake you forever unless you comply with my wishes in this affair." "Then I must name some conditions, to which I shall demand the strictest compliance on your part." "Name them." "In the first place, then, to avoid the possibility of noise or mishap, I will give the lady a potion, which will stupefy her faculties, and cause a deep sleep to lock up all her senses for the space of three or four hours. I will so arrange it, that these hours shall be from eleven to three o'clock, and what is done must be accomplished between those periods of time. You shall, therefore, not enter number seventeen until after eleven o'clock, and you must positively leave it before three; and you shall not let your victim know what transpires at this house until after the Waltons have left the city. Do you consent to these terms?" "I suppose I must." "Then the matter is settled. Remember the hours; I shall know if my injunctions are disregarded, and you will fare the worse for it." "Fear not. Come to reflect, I like your plan better than my own, as there is less danger in it every way." "Enough. Good night." "Hold a moment. Is there any fastening on the door between the rooms, on the side in number seventeen?" "There is; but I will take care of that; and you know no one, unless well acquainted with the spot, could tell there was a door there." "True, true--I had forgotten that fact." "Oh, I forgot one prohibition. You must in no case let a ray of light into seventeen. It might render all our precautions abortive, and defeat their object." "Very well. I will be careful."