Needless to say, these superstitious fancies never disturbed Lady Molly. She liked to wander over the ground where was committed that mysterious crime which had sent to ignominy worse than death the man she loved so passionately. It seemed as if she meant to wrench its secret from the silent ground, from the leafy undergrowth, from the furtive inhabitants of the glades. The sun had gone down behind the hills; the wood was dark and still. We strolled up as far as the first clearing, where a plain, granite stone, put up by Mr. Philip Baddock, marked the spot where Mr. Steadman had been murdered. We sat down on it to rest. My dear lady’s mood was a silent one; I did not dare to disturb it, and, for a while, only the gentle “hush--sh--sh” of the leaves, stirred by the evening breeze, broke the peaceful stillness of the glade. Then we heard a murmur of voices, deep-toned and low. We could not hear the words spoken, though we both strained our ears, and presently Lady Molly arose and cautiously made her way among the trees in the direction whence the voices came, I following as closely as I could. We had not gone far when we recognised the voices, and heard the words that were said. I paused, distinctly frightened, whilst my dear lady whispered a warning “Hush!” Never in all my life had I heard so much hatred, such vengeful malignity expressed in the intonation of the human voice as I did in the half-dozen words which now struck my ear. “You will give her up, or----” It was Mr. Felkin who spoke. I recognised his raucous delivery, but I could not distinguish either of the two men in the gloom. “Or what?” queried the other, in a voice which trembled with either rage or fear--perhaps with both. “You will give her up,” repeated Felkin, sullenly. “I tell you that it is an impossibility--do you understand?--an impossibility for me to stand by and see her wedded to you, or to any other man for the matter of that. But that is neither here nor there,” he added after a slight pause. “It is with you I have to deal now. You shan’t have her--you shan’t--I won’t allow it, even if I have to----” He paused again. I cannot describe the extraordinary effect this rough voice coming out of the darkness had upon my nerves. I had edged up to Lady Molly, and had succeeded in getting hold of her hand. It was like ice, and she herself was as rigid as that piece of granite on which we had been sitting. “You seem bubbling over with covert threats,” interposed Philip Baddock, with what was obviously a sneer; “what are the extreme measures to which you will resort if I do not give up the lady whom I love with my whole heart, and who has honoured me to-day by accepting my hand in marriage?” “That is a lie!” ejaculated Felkin. “What is a lie?” queried the other, quietly.