A time had come when the fever threatened to take Lord Harry's

vengeance out of his hands. The crisis of the disease declared itself.

With the shadow of death on him, the wretch lived through it--saved by

his strong constitution, and by the skilled and fearless woman who

attended on him. At the period of his convalescence, friends from

Ireland (accompanied by a medical man of their own choosing) presented

themselves at the house, and asked for him by the name under which he

passed--Carrigeen. With every possible care, he was removed; to what

destination had never been discovered. From that time, all trace of him

had been lost.

Terrible news followed on the next page.

The subtle power of infection had asserted itself against the poor

mortal who had defied it. Hugh Mountjoy, stricken by the man who had

murdered his brother, lay burning under the scarlet fire of the fever.

But the nurse watched by him, night and day.




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