“I know my rights, and I will use them,” he replied, excitedly. “Move that boy at your peril;” and he clapped his hand upon his silver-mounted pocket-pistol. He had evidently been drinking. His day at the race-course had maddened him. He was in a dangerous mood to oppose. This Mr. Bristed evidently saw, as I did, for he beckoned me to go out for assistance. As I was moving toward the door for that purpose, Richard’s eye lit upon me. “Ah, ha!” shouted he, coming toward me. “So you are the one who has been prying into my affairs. It is you I must thank for this interference. Out of this room directly! Get you gone!” I should have obeyed, but a sound from Herbert’s bed arrested me--a sound that awed me more than the angry voice of Richard! I hurried to the bedside. Mr. Bristed was there before me. I looked at the sinking boy. A stronger hand than his father’s grasped him now. _That_ hand was _Death’s_! No need now to remove the little sufferer from his couch to the carriage in waiting. He would be borne soon by the white-robed angels from the reach of us all! Even Richard, whose cruel grasp he had eluded, seemed awed as the little spirit burst from its tenement, and a transcendent smile settled on the thin, waxen face, and the white hands folded themselves across the breast with an air of unutterable peace. CHAPTER XX. Early the next morning Mr. Bristed accompanied the lifeless body of little Herbert to Bristed Hall. He begged me to go with him, but I refused his solicitations. I had other duties before me, which I must perform. I should have been glad to have rid myself from every one, but that could not be. Richard did not return, and I was alone; the days dragged heavily away. I felt that I stood on the brink of a yawning chasm from which I could turn neither to the right nor the left. The thought of remaining with Richard was abhorrent, and the prospect of leaving him and commencing life anew was also a dreadful alternative. What shall I do?--I reflected, as I went my weary way through the classes. Richard solved that question for me when he returned after an absence of three days. My pupils had just retired when a message came that he had returned and desired to see me in the library. With a heavy heart I went to meet him. He was not alone. A tall, passionate-looking woman, with dark hair and restless eyes, sat beside him. She was richly appareled, and gazed at me with a haughty stare as I entered. Richard nodded to me a bare recognition and said, “I have sent for you, as I wish you to inform your pupils that they must leave in the morning. I have other uses for this building.” At this cool announcement I staggered. Good God! would he undo me? What plan had he now in view? “Remove my pupils!” I exclaimed. “Yes; do I not speak clearly? And as you have been plotting and scheming for some time against me, I would advise you to leave, also. Bristed Hall,” said he sneeringly, “is likely to prove an agreeable shelter to you.”