"She declared that it was the one dream of her life-time," Richard Leith replied. "And there is no clew save that which John Glenalvan holds?" inquired Bertram, thoughtfully. "None, and the villain has fled. I do not believe his own wife and children know aught of his whereabouts." A look of grave determination swept over Bertram's handsome, pallid face. "Then I will take up the quest where it dropped from Golden's little hand in dying. I will track the villain, if it is to the end of the world. It shall be my task to vindicate her mother's memory," he said, gravely and earnestly. "It is _my_ task rather," said Richard Leith. "We will join hands in the effort," his son-in-law answered. Old Dinah came in with a note for Mr. Leith. It was from Gertrude. "I have gone away," she wrote. "I can leave you no address, but I shall be cognizant of all that transpires at Glenalvan Hall, and I may see you again ere long. You will soon be well enough to go about again, and that you may be enabled to solve the distressing mystery of your lost wife's fate, is the earnest prayer of "GERTRUDE." "Surely no man was ever placed in such a terrible position," said Richard Leith. "For aught I know, I may have two wives living." "It is through no fault of yours," replied Mr. Chesleigh; "but it is most distressing. Your second wife appears to be a very beautiful and winning woman." "She is both, but I never discovered her worth until it was too late to love her," Mr. Leith replied, sadly. "Her noble conduct to my helpless daughter first opened my eyes to her lovable character." "God bless her!" Bertram Chesleigh uttered, fervently. They had some further conversation, and then Mr. Chesleigh announced his intention of going away. "I will not trespass further on Mr. Glenalvan's hospitality," he said decidedly. "I do not forget how much reason he has to hate the sight of me." CHAPTER XLV. The twilight hour found Bertram Chesleigh wending his way to the green graveyard where his hapless wife lay buried. As he had hoped, he found the old grave-digger waiting for him. He had been sodding the mound with velvety green turf, and planting lilies and immortelles upon it. "Why have you done this?" he said. "Did you not know I would come to-night? I was at death's door last night, or I would have come as I said. Did you do what you promised?" "Yes, sir, and waited a long time for you," said the man, doffing his cap respectfully. "I even sent my son to look for you. He learned of your bad condition, and then we were compelled to put the coffin back in the ground again." There was a strange, repressed excitement in the man's manner, but Mr. Chesleigh, absorbed in the bitterness of his own despair, did not observe it. He counted over a hundred dollars into the man's hand, and then said, with a tremor of hope in his voice: