Hettie had resolved to keep the secret with which she had been intrusted by her brother no longer than she could acquire strength to reveal it; and on this very day that we have been describing, she had told Mr. Rutherford all she knew. That evening, while the tempest was roaring around his dwelling, he sat alone in the room where his family usually congregated, Mrs. Rutherford and the children having retired to Hettie's apartment, to give what cheer they could to the sick room during the wild howling of the storm. His thoughts, busied with the intelligence which had that day been communicated to him, and agitated between hope and fear, were devising all manner of plans for the recovery of documents of so much value, and the surest way to bring the dangerous men concerned in the transaction to justice, when a loud knocking against an outer door reached his ear. Thinking it might be some benighted stranger, he hurried to admit him, as soon as possible, to a shelter from the peltings of a pitiless storm. Opening the door, he requested the stranger to hasten in, not waiting to inquire who he was, or what he wanted. The first glance, however, as he turned towards his visitor, made him regret that he had been so hasty; for David Cross, with a wild and haggard countenance, stood before him. Mr. Rutherford had no reason to think that his errand was a good one, but he was resolved to treat him with forbearance. David spoke first-- 'A terrible storm, sir.' 'Your business must be urgent, Mr. Cross, that drives you out through such a night.' 'It is urgent, sir. Is Miss Hettie in a condition to be seen?' 'She is not, except by those with whom she feels perfectly at rest.' 'I must see her, Mr. Rutherford, if such a thing is possible. I have done her great injustice, and I wish to make all the atonement in my power. As you value the future peace of an unhappy man, I beg you, sir, to allow me but a moment's interview.' 'It cannot be, Mr. Cross; your presence in her chamber would, in all probability, throw her again into the same horrible condition from which she has but just recovered; and a relapse would be fatal.' Cross looked away from Mr. Rutherford, and fixed his eye on the door. He seemed in an agony, for occasionally a tremor shook his whole frame, and Mr. Rutherford thought he saw him wipe away a tear. For some moments neither spoke. At length turning, and with a beseeching look addressing Mr. Rutherford, 'Will you allow me, sir, to send a line to her; perhaps she may wish to see me.' 'I will, sir; but I am not at all sure that you will be permitted to see her, even if she consents.' He wrote a few lines, and handing it to Mr. Rutherford-- 'If she refuses to see me after she has read that, so be it; but I will not then be to blame for the consequences which may follow.'