And in her terror of the cold world outside, her fear of her foes, and her longing to stay here till her lover’s return, poor Floy held fast her wretched little secret of love, scarcely daring to breathe when Alva named her brother’s name in praise or blame. But that last conjecture of Alva’s as to her brother’s resignation to his mother’s will nearly broke the poor child’s heart. She could not doubt Alva’s word. It must be true that among them all, in their pride of name and place, they had turned his heart against her, his absent little love. “He is fickle and false, my lover whom I trusted in so fondly! How can I bear this pain and live?” she moaned to her stricken heart, in the silence of her terrible despair. CHAPTER XXXVI. “NOT TILL LOVE COMES.” But we must digress a short while from the main points of our story to note what became of our villain, Otho Maury, after Floyd Landon and our heroine left him unconscious on the floor, to recover at his leisure from his long swoon. Never was a villain assured of success in a nefarious design more cleverly checkmated. In a few minutes after their departure, Otho revived, and lifted his head in wonder at his position. A darting pain in his wounded neck recalled him sharply to a sense of all that had happened. He had gone to Suicide Place to search for Floy, and found her; but she was armed, and had attacked him desperately with a murderous looking dagger. He had swooned with the pain of the wound she gave him, and knew no more. How long ago had that been? How long had he been lying here? And where was Floy? He called her name faintly in the silence, but only the echoes of the grim old house gave reply. “She has fled the scene believing that I am dead, curse her!” he muttered, vindictively, dragging himself up out of the slippery pool of blood beneath him, and dropping heavily into an arm-chair. Then he discovered, to his surprise, that his neck had been carefully bandaged. Not knowing, of course, of the presence of the detective who had come upon the scene the moment after he swooned, he was filled with wonder at the fact that Floy had apparently bandaged his neck. “But she has escaped me again! The foul fiend must have helped her to drive that blow into my neck!” he muttered, angrily; adding: “But she would not have found me such an easy victim--I could have grappled with her and taken away the weapon--only that I was unnerved and trembling from the sights I had seen before I entered this room.” He shuddered and glanced fearfully at the door, as though expecting some unearthly presence to appear. “Alone in a haunted house!” he muttered, fearfully. “I that always laughed at spooks and phantoms! But I shall never deny them again. I have stumbled by accident on the secret of this old house, and I know that it has its restless ghost. What if I could turn my knowledge to account, and---- Ugh! what was that?”