“I heard long ago of her mysterious disappearance, Miss Joe, and I always thought, and think now, that in her deep despair for the sudden loss of her husband she drowned herself. I think so the more that never before or since that strange occurrence, has any outrage been attempted on the island. Think of the years we lived there alone with nothing to disturb our quiet. Why, often in the fond superstition of my childhood, when I have waked up in the night, have I risen and gone out into the starlight, and rambled all over the isle in the hope of surprising the fairies at their midnight revels! Well, if I never found them, I never found anything worse. No, Miss Joe, there is no danger. If there were, I do not know the fear of it. That solitary light on the isle belongs to some solitary wretch, poorer and more friendless even than we were; one whose misfortunes or crimes make him dread and shun the approach of his fellow-men; one whom I do not fear to seek; one whom, if I find, I shall try to relieve. And I will tell you, if that will ease your kind anxiety upon my account, I will direct Pompey to take a pair of pistols.” As she finished speaking a servant appeared at the door, and announced that the horses were ready. She left the parlor, and soon returned prepared for her ride, and immediately set out. Miss Joe fidgeted up and down the hall in great disturbance of mind. In about ten minutes after Miss Seabright had left the house the quick trampling of horses announced the arrival of Lionel Hardcastle. He hurried into the house, booted and spurred as he was, and asked rapidly: “Where is Miss Seabright? Has she sent for me?” “No, sir; no. It was me that sent for you. Come here—here in the parlor, sir. I have got something terrible to tell you. Shut the door.” He followed her into the parlor, closing the door as requested, and stared with astonishment at the old lady’s excited countenance, while with rapid enunciation she related all that had happened just before and since his visit in the forenoon. Miss Seabright’s excited manner, her mad resolution of going that night to Hutton’s Island to find out about the light, and above all her “real crazy” talking about committing a sin before the world in order “to keep in long o’ the world.” Mr. Hardcastle listened with a sarcastic smile until he heard of her night expedition; then his sinister face lighted up with demoniac joy, to conceal which he quickly averted his head. “Ha! with only one attendant, say you?” “With no one, sir, but Pomp—sure as you’re born.” “I must instantly go after her then.” “Oh, do, sir! do hurry!” said Miss Joe, and in five minutes more Lionel Hardcastle, with the dark and lowering brow of a fiend hidden by the night, was galloping swiftly toward the coast, muttering in his heart: “Now, scornful girl, shall my love and vengeance both be sated!”