The next morning, after General Garnet had left the house—for the whole day—Alice arose, still dizzy and weak, not only from the effects of the blow, but from fasting and anxiety. She was scarcely seated in her chair when a letter was brought to her that had come in the mail-bag from the post office. It was superscribed in the handwriting of Dr. Hardcastle. Alice tore it open, and read a much longer epistle than I can find space to transcribe here, reader, but the sum total of it was this: Magnus informed his friend Alice of what she already knew—General Garnet’s expressed determination to break the engagement existing between himself and Elsie, for mere mercenary motives; of his own and Elsie’s fixed resolution to abide by their betrothal, and his hopes that their decision would meet her—Alice’s—approval. He told her of his wish that their marriage should take place on Thursday, as had been first proposed; and of his intention to depart on the following Monday for his home, among the new settlements in the backwoods of Maryland. He told her, farther, that he had called the day before to see her and Elsie, but that he had been refused admittance at the very threshold, the servants adducing their master’s commands as their warrant. He had heard, he said, that Elsie was immured, but hoped and believed that this was not so. He concluded by entreating Alice to write and inform him of her own and Elsie’s state of health and spirits, and advise him how to proceed. Alice folded the letter, clasped her hands, and closed her eyes a moment in intense thought and prayer. Then, bidding Milly wheel her writing table before her, she took pen and paper, and wrote the following short but important note: “DEAR MAGNUS: “As soon as you see this, go to a locksmith and send him instantly to me. Then get a carriage, procure your license, call at Fig’s to take up the young Methodist minister who boards there, and come at once to Mount Calm. When you return, Elsie shall accompany you. “Your friend, “ALICE GARNET.” She sealed this note, dispatched it, and then dropped her head into her hands, holding it tightly, as though to chain thought to its object. Then once more she drew her writing-desk nearer to her, took her pen, and wrote these hurried lines to Elsie: