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Again came a violent ringing of the door-bell; steps in the hall; this time the two men listened. "I am pursued," muttered Ford; "they've cornered me; it is your turn now." "I will give you up if these are enemies," cried Mellen; "there is no escape." He took one stride towards the door, but Ford called out: "You are giving up your sister's husband; remember the whole world shall know it."
Elsie was still at the piano when the gentlemen entered. Mr. Mellen looked about for Elizabeth, but she was not there. "She has not come in yet," said old Mrs. Thompson, in answer to his inquiry. Elsie heard the words she had ears keen as a little beast of prey. "One of the servants stopped her," she called out; "servants always are stopping her mine will be better regulated.
She was looking up into his face with a pleasant smile, a little pale yet from her recent emotion, or else those two years which had elapsed since their parting had robbed her of a portion of her girlish bloom, but self-possessed and full of happiness. Grantley Mellen looked at her more closely as she stood there in the cheerful light.
But most of the men were shoeless and blanketed when morning dawned, and all were thankful when served with coffee and a light breakfast, though many even then were too much excited and some in too much pain to eat. Mellen, the laughing and joyous lad of yesterday, was nursing a blistered hand and arm and stalking about the car in stocking feet and a pair of trousers two sizes too big for him.
It is quite necessary to let them see how very happy you and Bessie are together, or they never will believe that you are not running away from her." "What!" demanded Mellen almost sternly, "What are you saying, Elsie?" "Oh, it's dreadful; I've been crying about it half the night; but a splendid ball, or something of that sort, will put everything on velvet.
And while he dug furiously into the earth, Elizabeth Mellen knelt by the window-seat watching him; and Elsie lay upon the floor, so utterly prostrated that she could only cry out to Elizabeth at intervals in her sharp, discordant voice: "Is he there yet is he there?" "Still there," she answered. "What is he doing?" "Digging, digging! He is on the wrong side of the tree."
She threw back the long veil and displayed her face the visitor was Elizabeth Mellen. "Pray be seated," he went on, placing a chair near the hearth; "this room looks dreadful, but I was up late and overslept myself had I dreamed you would favor me with so early a visit, I should have been prepared."
The wind was dying away in low sobs now, smothered down by the fog, through which he could hear the moaning of the ocean afar off. Mellen left the woods, and made the best of his way home, believing that his wife had already found a shelter there. The house was dark and still as the grave when he entered it again.
There would be no end to his questions, if he saw so much as a broken rose bud." Elizabeth swept up the scattered flowers with her hands and cast them through the open window, scarcely heeding what the girl said about them, in the agitation of the moment. As she turned from the open sash, Grantley Mellen came into the room.
You're choking me!" groaned the wretch. "Then speak! What are you doing here whom do you want to see?" "Just let me go and I'll tell you," pleaded his prisoner. "I can't speak while you're throttling me." Mellen loosened his grasp on the man's throat, but still held him fast. His hold had been a fearful one the man was actually breathless.
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