When, at the time agreed upon, Mr. Cory and Hilton Riddell set off on their mission of love and vengeance, every detail of their plans had been arranged, Hilton, not sure when or under what circumstances he would see his mother again, had bidden her a fond good-bye, and had left her praying for God’s help in the enterprise which she hoped would restore her banished son to her. Meanwhile the Stavangers, father and son, were also maturing their plans, feeling pretty confident now of success, and little dreaming that the avenger was already on their track. CHAPTER IV. A SUSPICIOUS DEATH. Nearly opposite the residence of Mr. Stavanger there was an untenanted house. The front area was well planted with trees and shrubs, which afforded capital shelter to two men who had loitered there for some time. The men were known to us, being none other than Mr. Cory and Hilton Riddell. They were getting somewhat fidgety lest a mistake had been made somewhere. For it was long past the time appointed for Hugh Stavanger’s departure with Captain Cochrane, and yet they had seen neither the one nor the other, although the house had been strictly watched for two hours. “He can’t have eluded us by going away earlier than the time named?” said Hilton, anxiously. “Oh no,” was the confident reply. “Annie would have been sure to let us know somehow or other.” “Unless she is suspected, and is prevented from doing anything further just now.” “That is possible. But I doubt it, for she would have no need or opportunity to watch Mr. Stavanger in any suspicious way during the day. And even if she had found it desirable to do so, and had been detected, what could these people do to her? They could not say: You shall not go out, because we have been stealing, and don’t want to be caught. As for locking her up in her room, that would be hardly practicable. No, since she has not come out to us I fancy that events are still multiplying indoors, and that we shall hear all about it soon. Ah--there is somebody coming out! It is Annie, I expect.” “No; it is a woman, but it is not Miss Cory.” “It is a servant, and on an urgent message, for she is actually running.” “Hush! she might hear us. Now she has passed us. Shall I follow her, do you think?” “No, no, stay here. Look how the lights are flashing about those upper rooms. The whole house seems to be in an uproar--and now I can hear a woman screaming. Good God! they are murdering Annie.” As he almost shouted this, in his sudden alarm, Mr. Cory, followed by Hilton, rushed across the road and up the steps leading to Mr. Stavanger’s house. Someone was evidently expected, for the door was opened as soon as they reached it, and a young girl, the housemaid probably, stood before them with clasped hands and streaming eyes.