And Anne's heart sank when she looked forward--living here, in the immediate spot where the deed was done, with all facility for collecting favorable evidence, and with better knowledge, and a more immediate certainty of Norman's innocence than even Anne herself could have--why had the brother and sister done nothing to remove this stain? She could only account for it by supposing them paralysed with fear--terrified to risk the present security of those so dear to them, for any uncertainty even of complete acquittal--and afraid of making any exertion, lest the eyes of curiosity should be turned upon them. The Forth lay vast in silvery silence, breathing long sighs along its sands. Opposite swelling soft and full, in the spiritual dimness of the spring night, rose the fair lands of Fife. Still and solemn in its saintly evening rest, lay the beautiful earth everywhere. Only awake and watching, under dusky roofs, and in dim chambers, were the hoping, toiling, wrestling souls of men, nobler and of mightier destiny, than even the beautiful earth. The next morning, when she entered the sunny little parlor, Anne found Jacky rearranging, according to her own ideas of elegance, the breakfast equipage, which Miss Crankie's energetic little servant had already placed upon the table. Anne smiled, and felt almost uncomfortable, as she observed the solitary cup and saucer on the table--the single plate--the minute teapot.--After all, this living alone, had something very strange in it. Jacky seemed to think so too: she filled out Anne's cup of tea, and lingered about the back of her chair. "If ye please, Miss Anne--" "Well, Jacky?" "If ye please," said Jacky, hesitating, "do ye ken wha little Miss Lilie is?" Anne started and turned round in alarm--was this strange, dark maid of her's really an elfin, after all? "No, Jacky," she said. "Why do you ask?" "Because--it's no forwardness, Miss Anne," murmured Jacky, hanging down her head. "I know that, Jacky--because what?" "Because, Miss Anne," said Jacky, emboldened, "I saw a lady down on the sands. She was standing close by the bushes at yon dark house, and her e'en were travelling ower the water, and her face was white--I will aye mind it--and--" "And what?" "It was her that brought little Lilie to the Mill. I saw her once by Oranside at night; and she was on our side of the water; and she was looking across at Merkland." "Was Lilie with her then, Jacky?" "No, Miss Anne; but I saw her after, leading Lilie by the hand, and then she was on the Merkland side, where Esther Fleming lives; and she was walking about, canny and soft, as if she wanted to see in." "And are you sure it is the same lady, Jacky?" said Anne. "I ken, Miss Anne," said Jacky, eagerly; "because there's no twa faces like yon in a' the world; and, Miss Anne, do ye mind Lilie's e'en?" "Yes, Jacky." Anne did recollect them--and how dark and full their liquid depths were!