Kathleen read and reread this strange letter with fascinated eyes. "I know the old Cooper saw-mill," she murmured. "It is on the old country road where we used to drive so often, near the glen and the waterfall. I have seen old Myron Cooper, too, that strange old man with his long gray duster. People said he wrote poetry as wild and gloomy as the glen where he lived. Yes, I will go, although they say the old mill is haunted after nightfall. But my unknown correspondent is right. A young girl will do and dare much for love--love, that mighty passion that moves the whole world." She spent the remainder of the day in restless thought, longing for the hour to come when she should go upon her strange mission, and yet half ashamed of the longing to know all the truth about her lover. "Why is it that I can not trust him wholly?" she asked herself; but the reckless curiosity of a woman's nature drove her forward on that perilous quest fraught with mystery and danger. "I must _know_!" she declared, passionately, to herself. CHAPTER LXVII. TEDDY'S LOVE LETTERS. "Closely shut within my chamber, Where the fire is burning bright, All these letters, long since written, I must read and burn to-night." "I wonder what has detained Jack Wren? He promised to be here this evening at five o'clock sharp. Here it is six," Teddy Darrell said, impatiently, as he looked at his watch, then lingered dreamily a moment over the fair face of Kathleen smiling up at him from within the golden lid. "Sweet darling! in a few more days she will be mine," he murmured, and forgot Jack Wren in sweet anticipations of his wedding-day now near at hand. Teddy was waiting in his rooms for the detective; and now, to beguile the time, he took some letters from his inside pocket and began to run over their perfumed contents, smiling softly now and then to himself. Then he got up, walked about the room, shook himself together and sighed, then laughed. "Poor little dears! it's hard to give you up, after all." The "little dears" probably referred to Teddy's old sweethearts, whose names were "legion"--such a string of them there was: Hatties, Helens, Lauras, Gussies, Saras, Emmies, Roses, Fredas, Annies, Nellies, Katies, Lenas, Noras, Mauds, Nannies, and so on through a list of the belles and beauties of several seasons, whose letters and photographs were treasured in Teddy's desk, soon to be ruefully sacrificed to the fire-fiend; for "Benedict, the married man," must not carry any of these sentimental mementoes of the past into his new life.