"My poor child!" "Listen, mother! Yesterday morning, at St. George's church, Hanover Square, in London, I was married by the Bishop of London to the Duke of Hereward. Yesterday afternoon I received secret but unquestionable proof that the duke was an already married man when he met me first, and that his wife was living in London!" "Holy saints, Mademoiselle! What is this that you are telling me?" exclaimed the astonished abbess. "Surely, surely she is growing delirious with fever," she muttered to herself. "I am telling you a terrible truth, my mother! Listen, and I will tell you everything, even as I know it myself!" said Salome, earnestly. The abbess no longer opposed her speaking, although it was evident that her illness was hourly increasing. And Salome told the terrible story of her sorrows, commencing with the first appointed wedding-day at Castle Lone, and ending with the second wedding-day at Elmhurst House, and her own secret flight from her false bridegroom, just as it is known to our readers. The deeply shocked abbess heard and believed, and frequently crossed herself during the recital. As Salome proceeded with what she called her confession, her fever and excitement increased rapidly. Toward the end of her recital her thoughts grew confused and wandered into the ravings of a brain fever. CHAPTER XXI. THE BRIDEGROOM. According to his promise given to Lady Belgrade, the Duke of Hereward returned to Elmthorpe House to make his report. He found the dowager waiting for him where he had left her, in the back drawing-room. He greeted her only by a silent bow, and she questioned him only by a mute look. "I have placed the case in the hands of Setter, confidentially, of course. He will commence secret investigations to-night," he said. "This morning, you mean, Duke. It is now two o'clock," remarked the dowager. "Is it, indeed, so late?" "So early you should say. Yes, it is. But what thinks the detective of this affair?" "He is inclined to think as we do, that our dear Salome has been decoyed away by some tale of extreme distress, and for purposes of robbery," answered the young duke, pressing his white lips firmly together in his effort to control all expression of the anguish that was secretly wringing his heart. "And what does he think of the chances of finding her soon and finding her safe?" inquired the dowager. The duke slowly shook his head. "Well, and what does that mean?" asked the lady. "It means that Detective Setter cannot form an opinion, or will not commit himself to the expression of one at present. And now, dear Lady Belgrade, as it is after two o'clock, I must bid you good-night--" "Good-morning, rather," interrupted the dowager. "And return to my lodgings," continued the duke, passing his hand across his forehead, like one "dazed" with trouble.