CHAPTER LVI.

A REPENTANT SINNER.

"How can the patient stars look down On all their light discovers-- The traitor's smile, the murderer's frown, The lips of lying lovers?"

When that startling question fell on Miss Erroll's ears she gave a convulsive gasp, and sank limply into the nearest chair.

The skilled detective saw quickly that the woman was a coward at heart, and would not be able to sustain the air of bravado with which she had entered.

Advancing quickly to her side, he threw back the lapel of his overcoat, revealing to her frightened eyes his detective badge, and continuing:

"I am in search of Clifford Standish, and you must tell me where to find him."

She trembled like a leaf in a storm, and muttered, with weak defiance:

"How should I know?"

Norris answered, boldly:

"Because you have been in secret correspondence with the man for weeks. Because you were his confederate in the kidnaping of Miss Geraldine Harding."

The cry of a beaten animal burst from the cowering woman's lips, and her form shook with fear.

"You cannot deny it," added Norris, following up his advantage, while Cissy and Hawthorne looked on in breathless interest.

She lifted her pallid face and groaned:

"Who is my accuser?"

"I am, and this gentleman here, Miss Harding's betrothed, the Harry Hawthorne whom it was pretended in that forged note the young lady had eloped with. I have been watching you and Standish for several weeks, Miss Erroll, and had I not been called away by other business, you had never succeeded in that nefarious abduction. But I have facts enough to warrant me in threatening you with arrest unless you make a full confession!"

"Arrest me?"

Almost hissing the words, she sprang to her feet, glaring fiercely at him, but the flash of bravado did not intimidate the fearless little detective.

"Yes, you," he answered, coolly. "But, after all, I do not like to war upon a woman, even a bad one; so tell me the truth now if you want to escape a prison-cell."

Quaking with fear, she dropped back into her chair, covering her writhing features with her trembling white hands.

After waiting a moment vainly for her to answer, he asked:

"Where is Clifford Standish now?"

"I do not know."

"How long since you saw him?"

"Two weeks ago to-night."

"At the time of the kidnaping of Miss Harding?"

"Yes."

Her answers were given as if dragged from her under stress of fear, but it was plain that she meant to make the confession he demanded.

He flashed Cissy and Hawthorne a triumphant look, then said, briskly:

"Tell us all about that night and your share in it, as quickly as you can, for our time is very precious."

So, with her head drooped in bitter shame, and eyes downcast, lest she should meet their glances of scorn and execration, the beautiful woman whose sins had followed her so relentlessly, poured out the story of that night's wrong-doing, her heart sinking in despair the while, for before her she saw the dark future opening like Hades, so awful in its gloom.

And in all the bitterness of that moment the cruelest thought of all was that Cissy was listening to her confession of sin, and would hate and despise her now for her ingratitude after all the kindness she had showered on her worthless head.

Somehow, she had coveted Cissy's respect and good-will, and to lose them was most bitter to her pride.

The cup of her humiliation was full, but she had to drink it to the bitter dregs.

When she drew breath in silence at last, after telling of the note she had pinned on the pillow, Harry Hawthorne cried, indignantly:

"Why did you lend yourself to this terrible deed?"

Miss Erroll looked at Cissy and faltered:

"You can tell him why."

Cissy answered:

"I think he knew some dark secret in her past that she was anxious to hide, now that she is leading a better life, and he threatened her with betrayal unless she helped him to carry out his plot. Is it not so?"

"It is the truth. I tried to keep from doing it, but I could not get out of his power. Oh, how hard it is for a woman who has once done wrong to lead a good life again! The avenging fates pursue her to death or madness!" groaned the detected governess.

"But, now," cried Norris, impatiently, "now tell us where that fiend was to take Miss Harding after he placed her in the sleigh that you say he had waiting at the corner."

"He told me he had engaged an old woman to take charge of her till she consented to marry him. He said she was a terrible old woman, who lived alone on a farm about five miles from the city, and kept a savage bull-dog on the place."

"By Heaven! I know the place, and the woman!" almost shouted the detective. Then, calming himself, he added:

"She is Jane Crabtree, an old woman as big as a giant, who has been in the criminal courts twice, once for beating almost to death a child she had taken from the poor-house and secondly for the murder of her husband. He died of arsenical poison, and the woman was accused of administering it, but they could not prove it and she got off by swearing he committed suicide. But I always felt sure that she did the deed, for it was proved they led a cat-and-dog life. Since this happened, three months ago, it is said that she never permits any person on the premises, and keeps a large bull-dog unchained all the time; so, if Miss Harding is in the clutches of that old wretch, it is time we were moving toward her delivery. Come," and he motioned Hawthorne away.

In their haste to be gone they paid no more attention to the governess, and with a hasty adieu to Cissy, left the room.

The two women were left alone, and Miss Erroll crouched wretchedly in her chair, not daring to look up and meet Cissy's glance of scorn.

She started when the girl's voice fell on her ear--clear, cold, disdainful.

"What shall you do now?"

The woman lifted her face, deadly pale, but grown suddenly calm with a great despair.

"I must go away--at once!" she answered.

Then she fell at Cissy's feet.

"You, who have been so good already--grant my last prayer," she faltered.

Cissy looked down in silent inquiry at the haggard face.

"Do not tell Mrs. Fitzgerald of this story until I am gone out of her house forever. I love her and the darling children; they have been good to me, and I could not bear their reproaches. I will go now and pack my trunk, and send for it later. Let me steal out of the house, like the wretched outcast I am, before you tell them my miserable story."

"Your wish is granted," answered Cissy, huskily.

She went away then to her own room and sat a while in earnest thought.

Then she went to Miss Erroll's door and tapped softly.

It was opened by the governess, who had made such speed that her hat and cloak were already on and her trunk strapped.

"You are going now?" asked Cissy.

"Yes."

"Where?"

"To seek some humble lodging-house, and begin again the horrible struggle of a lonely woman for an honest living," the poor wretch answered, bitterly.

"Have you any money?"

"Fifty dollars that I have saved in the few months that I have been here--enough to starve on perhaps until I find another situation."

"Take this to help you," Cissy said, pressing a hundred-dollar bill into her hand.

"Oh, Miss Carroll, I cannot. You, too, are poor. It may be your little all."

"No, I have more. In fact, I received two hundred dollars yesterday from a lawyer in New York, who has been managing some lawsuits for me against a villain who brought a false claim against my grandfather's estate, and thus threw me penniless on the world. My lawyer has won the suit, and I shall have several thousand dollars of my own very soon."

"I congratulate you, Miss Carroll. You deserve all the good fortune that can fall to a noble woman. Heaven forever bless you. I accept your gift gratefully, because--because it--may save me, poor tempted wretch, from a life of sin."

"That was why I gave it to you. I hoped it might keep you in the right path."

"It shall! It shall! Oh, Miss Carroll, I am a repentant sinner, and since I am spared this time, I will never be tempted to do wrong again! I swear--I swear to you, in return for your angelic goodness--that I will repent my sins, seek God's forgiveness, try to lead a good life, and meet you--angel that you are--in heaven!"

She snatched Cissy's hand, pressed her burning lips upon it, and rushed from the house out into the blinding snow storm that darkened the air.

Then Cissy went to Mrs. Fitzgerald to tell her of all that had transpired, and to help her to bear the terrible suspense over Geraldine's fate.