In a few moments he stopped at a massive door, opened it, and said, "Walk in there, ma'am." She advanced a few steps: the door closed behind her; and she found herself in the presence of Reginald Tracy. But how changed was he! His cheeks were ghastly pale—his eyes sunken—his hair was in disorder—his person dirty and neglected. "This is kind of you, Cecilia," he said, without rising from his chair. "Sit down, and lose no time in conversing—we have not much time to be together." "Oh, Reginald!" exclaimed Cecilia, as she took a seat, "what a place for us to meet in!" "Now do not give way to ejaculations and laments which will do no good," said Reginald. "If you can maintain your tranquillity it will be advantageous to yourself. You know that I am possessed of some property?" "The world always believed you to be rich," observed Cecilia. "I have lately been extravagant," continued Reginald: "still I have a handsome fortune remaining. As I am not _yet_ condemned," he added bitterly, "I can leave it to whom I choose. Do you wish to be my heiress?" "Ah! Reginald—this proof of your affection——" "No superfluous words, Cecilia," interrupted the rector impatiently. "If you wish to possess my wealth you must render me a service—an important service, to merit it." "Any thing in the world that I can do to benefit you shall be performed most faithfully," said Lady Cecilia. "And you will not shrink from the service which I demand? The condition is no light one." "Name it. Whatever it be, I will accept it—provided that it do not involve my safety," returned Cecilia. "Selfishness!" exclaimed the rector contemptuously. "Listen attentively. To-morrow my solicitor will attend upon me here. To him I shall make over all my property—in trust for the person to whom I choose to bequeath it. He is an honourable man, and will faithfully perform my wishes. I have not a relation nor a friend in the world who has any particular claim upon me. I can constitute you my heiress: at my death," he added slowly, "all I possess may revert to you,—the world remaining in ignorance of the manner in which I have disposed of my wealth. But if I thus enrich you, I demand from your hands the means of escaping an infamy otherwise inevitable." "I do not understand you," said Cecilia, somewhat alarmed. The rector leant forward, fixed a penetrating glance upon his mistress, and said in a hollow and subdued tone, "I require poison—a deadly poison!" "Poison!" echoed Cecilia, with a shudder. "Yes: do you comprehend me now? Will you earn wealth by rendering me that service?" he asked eagerly. "What poison do you require?" demanded Cecilia greatly excited. "Prussic acid: it is the most certain—and the quickest," answered the rector. "If you are afraid to procure it yourself, the old hag in Golden Lane will assist you in that respect." "And must it really come to this?" said Cecilia. "Is all hope dead?"