"I will drink to the health of my beautiful bride to be," he muttered, raising the flask to his lips; and he drank long and deep, the brandy leaping like fire through his veins. He had not long to wait in his place of concealment ere he heard the sound of footsteps. Looking through the heavy branches, he saw the figure of a woman--a familiar figure, it seemed to him--moving rapidly to and fro among the blooms. He called to her, believing this time he was face to face with young Mrs. Gardiner, when he found to his keen disappointment it was only Antoinette, the clever French maid. She should take a message to her mistress, he determined; and tearing a leaf from his memorandum-book, he hastily penciled a note to Sally Gardiner, which he felt sure would bring her with all possible haste to the place at which he awaited her. "Give this to your mistress with dispatch, Antoinette," he said. He knew the golden key that would be apt to unlock this French maid's interest to do his bidding. As he spoke, he took from his pocket-book a crisp bank-note, which he told the girl she was to spend for bon-bons or ribbons for herself. He had always made it a point to fee the French maid well, that he might have a powerful ally in the home of his intended victim. The money, together with a little judicious flattery now and then, had won Antoinette completely over. As Victor Lamont sat on the mossy bowlder by the brook-side, watching and waiting, he observed, early as the hour was, that the servants of the mansion had begun to bestir themselves. One hour passed after Antoinette had returned to the house; then another. Young Mrs. Gardiner did not come to the rendezvous. "Why is she not here?" he asked himself; and for the first time in his life he quite lost control of himself in a fit of terrible anger, and to calm himself he had recourse more than once to the silver flask which he carried in his breast-pocket. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed; then slowly one, two, three, four--another five; then replacing his watch in his pocket, and quivering with rage, Victor Lamont started for the house. CHAPTER LVI. The sound of the galloping hoofs of Victor Lamont's steed had scarcely died away in the distance ere Bernardine opened her eyes and looked wonderingly about her. For an instant she believed that her strange surroundings--the bare room, with its curtainless windows, and the strange women bending over her--were but the vagaries of a too realistic dream from which she was awakening. But even while this impression was strong upon her, the woman said, sneeringly: "So you have regained consciousness--that's bad;" and she looked crossly at the girl.