“I can't abide to see a young lady made a fool of by a villain. Mr. Little have got his miss here: they dote on each other. She lives in the works, and so do he, ever since she came, which he usen't afore. They are in one room, as many as eight hours at a stretch, and that room always locked. It is the talk of all the girls. It is nought to me, but I thought it right you should know, for it is quite a scandal. She is a strapping country lass, with a queerish name. This comes from a strange, but a well-wisher. “FAIR PLAY.” The letter to Henry Little was as follows:-- “The reason of so many warnings and ne'er a blow, you had friends in the trade. But you have worn them out. You are a doomed man. Prepare to meet your God. “[Drawing of coffin.]” This was the last straw on the camel's back, as the saying is. He just ground it in his hand, and then he began to act. He set to work, packed up models, and dispatched them by train; clothes ditto, and wrote a long letter to his mother. Next day he was busy writing and arranging papers till the afternoon. Then he called on Grace, as related, and returned to the works about six o'clock: he ordered a cup of tea at seven, which Jael brought him. She found him busy writing letters, and one of these was addressed to Grace Carden. That was all she saw of him that night; for she went to bed early, and she was a sound sleeper. It was nine o'clock of this same evening. Mr. Coventry, disguised in a beard, was walking up and down a certain street opposite the great door of the works. He had already walked and lounged about two hours. At last Cole joined him for a moment and whispered in a tone full of meaning, “Will it do now?” Coventry's teeth chattered together as he replied, “Yes; now is the time.” “Got the money ready?” “Yes.” “Let us see it.” “When you have done what you promised me.” “That very moment?” “That very moment.” “Then I'll tell you what you must do. In about an hour go on the new bridge, and I'll come to you; and, before I've come to you many minutes, you'll see summut and hear summut that will make a noise in Hillsbro', and, perhaps, get us both into trouble.” “Not if you are as dexterous as others have been.” “Others! I was in all those jobs. But this is the queerest. I go to it as if I was going to a halter. No matter, a man can but die once.” And, with these words, he left him and went softly down to the water-side. There, in the shadow of the new bridge, lay a little boat, and in it a light-jointed ladder, a small hamper, and a basket of tools. The rowlocks were covered with tow, and the oars made no noise whatever, except the scarce audible dip in the dark stream. It soon emerged below the bridge like a black spider crawling down the stream, and melted out of sight the more rapidly that a slight fog was rising.