But Reginald returned at once with his mother to Dudleigh Manor. Here Lady Dudleigh for a few days sank under the effects of the accumulated troubles through which she had passed, and when at length she was able to move about, Sir Lionel was the first one of whom she thought, and she at once devoted herself to him. But the wretched man was already beyond the reach of her care. His strength was failing rapidly; he refused all nourishment; his mind was a hopeless wreck; he recognized no one; and all that was now left to the wife to do was to watch over him and nurse him as patiently as possible until the end, which she knew must be near. In the excitement consequent upon his first return, his interviews with Leon and Sir Lionel, his rescue of Lady Dudleigh, and his deep anxiety about her after her release. Reginald had sent no word to Edith of any kind. This arose neither from neglect nor forgetfulness, but because his surroundings were too sad, and he had not the heart to write to her until some brighter prospect should appear. His mother's short illness at first alarmed him; but this passed away, and on her recovery he felt sufficiently cheerful to send to Edith an account of all that had occurred. Ten days had passed since he parted with her. On the day after he wrote to her he received a letter from her. It was the first communication that he had received. That letter conveyed to him awful intelligence. It informed him of the arrest of Edith and Frederick Dalton. * * * * * CHAPTER LV. CONCLUSION. This intelligence was so terrible and so unexpected that for some time he felt overwhelmed with utter horror. Then a dark suspicion came to him that this was the work of Leon, who, enraged at his baffled schemes, had dealt this last blow upon those whom he had already so deeply wronged. This suspicion roused the utmost fury of Reginald's nature, and he hurried forth at once to seek his brother. He found him sauntering up and down in front of the house. Leon had remained here ever since his interview with Reginald, in accordance with his promise. As he now saw his brother approach, he started, and looked at him with an expression of astonishment not unmingled with terror. Without any preliminaries, Reginald at once assailed him with the most vehement denunciations, and in a few burning words, fall of abhorrence and wrath, he accused him of this new piece of villainy. “You're wrong--you're wrong--you're altogether wrong!” cried Leon, eagerly. “I have done nothing--I swear I've done nothing! I've never left the place. “You've sent word!” cried Reginald, furiously. “I have not--I swear I haven't!” said Leon. “I haven't written a line to any one. I've had no communication whatever with a single soul.” “It's your work, and yours only!” cried Reginald; “and, by Heaven, you shall suffer for it! You've broken the agreement between us, and now I'll show you no mercy!”