Later events, still more inexplicable in their character, and yet unexplained, gave color to this story, and invested it with the elements of probability. As related, the old gossip's second intrusion upon the Aliens, in the capacity of nurse, furnished the town's-people with a few additional facts, as to the state of things inside of a dwelling, upon whose very walls seemed written mystery. In the beginning, Mrs. Allen had made a few acquaintances, who were charmed with her character, as far as she let herself be known. Visits were made and returned for a short season. But after the birth of her first child, she went abroad but rarely, and ceasing to return all visits, social intercourse came to an end. The old nurse insisted that this was not her fault, but wholly chargeable upon the Captain, who, she was certain, had forbidden his wife to have anything to do with the town's-people. CHAPTER II. One day, nearly two years after the birth of this second child, the quiet town of S----was aroused from its dreams by a strange and startling event. About a week before, a handsomely dressed man, with the air of a foreigner, alighted from the stage coach at the “White Swan,” and asked if he could have a room. A traveler of such apparent distinction was a rare event in S----; and as he suggested the probable stay of a week or so, he became an object of immediate attention, as well as curiosity. Night had closed in when he arrived, and as he was fatigued by his journey in the old lumbering stage coach that ran between the nearest sea-port town and S----, he did not show himself again that evening to the curious people who were to be found idling about the “White Swan.” But he had a talk with the landlord. That functionary waited upon him to know his pleasure as to supper. “The ride has given me a headache,” the stranger said, “which a cup of tea will probably remove. Beyond that, I will take nothing to-night. Your name is--” “Adams, sir. Adams is my name,” replied the landlord. “And mine is Willoughby--Col. Willoughby.” And the Englishman bowed with a slight air of condescension. “I am at your service, Col. Willoughby,” said the landlord in his blunt way. “Just say what you want, and the thing is done.” “A cup of tea will serve me to-night, my friend. Let it be good and strong; for my head is a little unsettled with this throbbing pain. That stage coach of yours would be something better for a pair of new springs.” “It's seen service, and no mistake. But people in these parts don't calculate much on easy riding. Springs are no great account. We look to the main chance.” “What is that?” “Getting over the ground.” The traveler smiled to himself in a quiet way, as if the landlord's answer had touched some memory or experience.