On a divan was seated a maiden of faultless beauty. Her golden hair flowed in ringlets over shoulders of alabaster fairness, and her large eyes, which were of a deep blue, were fixed on the youth beside her with a look of tearful sadness. Her companion who wore the undress uniform of the United States navy, was of a small but

Isadore Montalbert paused but for a moment, then passing quickly within she secured the door, and going to the bed drew aside the delicate drapery and bent over the sleeping occupant, prepared, should he awaken, to lavish on him her hollow caresses. But in spite of her fixed gaze, her husband-for such he was-continued bound by the heavy slumber that had locked his every sense.

The sleeper was a man of fifty and upwards, and his long black hair, streaked here and there with silver, flowed in waves about his massive brow, which betokened intellect of no ordinary stamp, while the cast of his face indicated a nature in which the fiercer passions predominated. "The gods are propitious," murmured his wife, with a soft sigh of relief; and feeling that she might now venture, she raised the phial, which she had clutched nervously the while, and dropped the fatal liquid.

The effect was immediate. The victim's breathing grew shorter and shorter, then came a spasmodic contraction of the features and a rigid stillness settled upon him.

"Dead, dead, thank the gods," she exclaimed in a suppressed tone, "now I am free!" And she gazed for awhile with a look of grim satisfaction, after which she moved softly from the room and passing rapidly down a long gallery stopped abruptly near its terminus.

"Aha," she murmured, "voices within, and the girl should have been asleep long since. I'll soon solve the mystery of this midnight visitor." Beside her was a pedestal on which a statue had once stood, and raising herself upon it she looked through the colored glass, graven with mystic symbols, that was inserted above the door of the small room beyond. It was a boudoir with draperies of white lace and blue damask, and in it was gathered every luxury that a refined taste could suggest.

glossy brown locks sweeping back from his broad forehead, beneath which beamed a pair of brilliant brown eyes, whose proud, clear glance was now softened to almost womanly tenderness, he presented a striking and pleasing contrast to her purely feminine cast of beauty.

"Alvar," said the maiden, in tones as soft and clear as rippling waters, "I would do as you wish, and disclose our engagement to Mrs. Montalbert, but in spite of her professions, I feel that she is far from being my friend, though proof I have none. Yet who but herself could have given the impression which I know has become general, that I am high-tempered and eccentric? What may be her motive I cannot define, but there is something that warns me of her true character and bids me to beware of her. Alas, Alvar, I shall be miserable when you are gone, for I have none else to love me in this wide, wide world. And I fear lest we should never meet again," she added, her tears flowing fast. In spite of the maiden's subdued tones not a word escaped the listener without, who stood with her head bowed toward a small aperture formed by a break in the glass, while her cheek burned with rage.

"Aha," she thought, "there is a sweet revenge in store for me, my fair maid. From the fate I have in reserve for you there is no escape, none. And you, my brave sir, ay, dry her tears with your soothing words and caresses, be happy in the present as you say, for the future will bring a shadow, a death-shadow across your path."

She listened for awhile longer. Long enough to learn that the youth, Alvar Lavalette, had received orders for the African coast, that he was to leave on the morrow to join his ship in Boston, and that on his return they were to be wedded. Then bethinking of herself she hastened from the house into the grounds reaching after a long circuit, a grove of live-oaks that bordered on the Mississippi River. There was only the dim light of the stars, and except the flow of the mighty waters, all was hushed. She groped her way from tree to tree, pausing at last by the patriarch of the wood, a huge oak with its hollow trunk thickly grown over with moss.

"He should have been here, it is past the hour," she murmured; "but no, I forget, I was

to give the signal." And drawing a small golden tube from her belt she sounded notes soft and clear as a nightingale. A few moments passed. "He does not come, what can be the reason!" she muttered impatiently, and again she sounded those notes. But still there was no answer, and not till they had been twice more repeated did her quick ear detect a cautious tread rapidly approaching.

The next moment a tall form stood beside her, and his strong arms encircled her, as her companion pressed his lips again and again to her cheek. She returned his caresses, murmuring:

Why so late, dearest? I had begun to fear lest some mishap had befallen you."

"I should have been punctual," was the reply, "for I left New Orleans at the time proposed, but I missed the way in this murky starlight, and thus increased a ten miles' drive to I know not what length. But how is it with him?"

"He sleeps. Come to the crimson chamber and you shall see how soundly;" and the two moved on with hushed breathing and stealthy tread.

"You are sure we shall not be observed, Isadore?" said her companion as they paused at the side door of the building.

"Yes," was her whispered reply, "follow me, you have nothing to fear;" and she led the way through a series of narrow passages, peculiar to that gloomy old mansion, till at last they stood within the crimson chamber.

The eyes of Isadore Montalbert glittered with a tiger-like ferocity as her lover gazed on those rigid features and placed his hand above the pulseless heart.

"You perceive my work is thoroughly done, he is dead," she said softly. And with a look that told more than ever how true a villain he was, Edmund Redimer returned her glance.

"It is well done," he replied; "there is no life there. And now that this obstacle is removed I hope in three months at most, to call you wife. This can be safely ventured, for Hugh Montalbert was so morose and stern toward others that you found it easy to give the false impression that he was so with yourself. His sudden death will be considered providential, and remarks I have heard in all quarters convince me that congratulations rather than blame would follow your speedy union with one so highly esteemed as myself;" and a smile flitted across his bold, handsome face.

"Inclination prompts me to yield, but prudence bids me beware," responded his companion. "I dare not thus hasten events! A year hence I will become your bride."

"This is needless caution, Isadore. For six

months I have been waiting, when he," and he pointed to the dead man, "might have been disposed of as safely the first week. I see no need for this long delay."

"Do not urge me," was the reply, "my determination cannot be shaken. My motto, as you well know, is 'make haste slowly.""

Edmund Redimer was annoyed and angry to the last degree at this declaration, but he knew Isadore Montalbert too well to press the matter further, and fixed his gaze again upon the dead man in a vain effort to conceal his vexation, which, unconsciously to himself, had already flashed in his eyes, causing his companion's heart to throb with pleasure at the power she exercised over him as she added:

"There is another reason, dearest, for this delay. I would bring you a richer dower than ever bride in this country has brought her husband; and to accomplish this the girl, Evangeline De Vere, remains to be disposed of. This, you perceive, is the work of time. Her death must not follow his too quickly. Ha, ha! I discovered to-night that she also has a secret lover," and she told what she had overheard.

It was with a glance of the keenest scrutiny that Edmund Redimer replied:

"You talk, Isadore, as if money were the sole motive that prompted my wooing; but you well know that it is love, such a love as is experienced but once by men of my stamp, and which lasts a lifetime. Strong as my passion was for the luxury that gold alone obtains, I sought you long ago when another alliance would have given me a princely fortune. Then followed ten years of exile on your account, till at last, overruled by this master passion, I came again, determined to win you as mine, in spite of all obstacles."

"Let it suffice then," interrupted Isadore Montalbert, "that you have succeeded as you never would have done but for my faith in your love. And of my return of it you can no longer doubt, for though I once rejected you for his gold," and she pointed to the lifeless form before them. "I have now sacrificed him to you."

Edmund Redimer's face shone with the repleteness of his satisfaction, and, clasping hands, the two went on to discuss their plans, unconscious that the panel had been drawn from within a circlet of carved leaves that lay in the deep shadow of the cornice directly above them, and that a pair of eyes had been glaring down upon them from the moment of their entrance, and a pair of ears drinking in each murmured word. And shortly after the door had closed on their retreating steps, the entire panel was noiseless

ly removed, and a slight form, bounding lightly to the floor, stole to the dead man's side.

It was a female small in stature and of singular appearance. Her gray hair was parted smoothly from her broad, full forehead, and glistened like burnished silver; and the face which bore traces of great loveliness, was stamped with the lines of intense suffering. She was clad in black garments whose sombre hue was relieved by a single star-shaped jewel burning on her breast.

"It is true. He is indeed dead, dead," she murmured brokenly, as she bent over him and placed her hand above the still pulse; "ah, Hugh Montalbert! vengeance has overtaken you at last, and through her whom you loved so madly. And she, too, she too must suffer for her misdeeds," she added with sudden vehemence; "I still bide my time."

Her voice shook with the violence of her emotion, and her voice trembled yet more, as, clutching at the jewel on her breast, she continued: "This, this was the symbol of our love. Thus you said when you gave it me. But yours was like the meteor's flash, while, in spite of all, I could never learn to hate you."

She paused for some moments, and then raising her slight, graceful form, she whispered:

"Hugh, farewell. I go on my mission ;" and moving away, she passed up the narrow steps in the wall by which she had descended. Then the panel glided to its place and there was a deep hush of death in the crimson chamber.

Two days later a stately funeral procession wound its way from the Montalbert mansion. The rich coffin, of ebony inlaid with silver, was distinctly visible through the glass sides of the plumed hearse, and beside the wreath placed upon it by the hand of Isadore Montalbert, was another of rarer flowers. Whose was the offering none knew, but one was among them, unobserved, clothed in a suit of simple gray, who had laid it there that one was she of the silver tresses.

It was again night. The clock in the old tower had struck the hour of three, in slow, solemn tones, and still Isadore Montalbert paced to and fro in the crimson chamber.

"I hate the girl," she finally exclaimed, pausing in her walk; "ay, with a hatred so intense that did I not covet her fortune, nothing short of her life would satisfy me. More beautiful than myself, forsooth! I heard them say so at his funeral, and it has rankled in my breast ever since. But I will be revenged on her. Yes, I could see Evangeline De Vere expire by slow tortures, and I will. I will touch her in the tenderest point, her love. It is mental suffering

that causes most anguish in an organization such as hers. Ha, she little dreams that I have her secret. But I must be doubly wary now that I have resolved to hasten events," she added in a milder tone, and, resuming her walk, she continued to ponder on her fell purpose.

The contemplated crime was, if possible, darker than that already committed. Five years before, her friend Mrs. De Vere had, on her deathbed, entrusted her only child, Evangeline, then but twelve years old, to Isadore Montalbert's care. And such was her confidence that she would be as a mother to the orphan girl, that she had in her will bequeathed to Mrs. Montalbert, in case she should outlive Evangeline and the latter have remained unmarried, the large property which she would inherit from herself.

Hence her unbounded rage when Isadore Montalbert discovered Evangeline's secret betrothal, for she felt that it might have resulted in a private marriage and thus have placed the coveted fortune forever beyond her reach.

It was not long before Isadore Montalbert again gave expression to her thoughts:

"I have decided," she exclaimed; "that old fortune-teller is just the person for my purpose. A few days since, when she predicted the brilliant future strangely enough, exactly what I had planned for myself, she let fall certain expressions that marked her as the tool I need. My spare gold would buy a host of such as she. I will go to her at once, and when I have done with her, this "-and she drew forth the golden phial that she now wore constantly about her"shall put a seal on her lips."

Shortly after, Isadore Montalbert entered the fortune teller's rude cabin, which stood just within a thicket of gigantic shrubs and interlacing vines, not far from the bounds of her own estate. The dawn had just broke, and the woman was eating a simple breakfast of bread and fruit. She was a most repulsive figure. A brown scarf, faded and otherwise discolored, was wound about her head, and a dress of the same hue, patched and tattered, fell loosely to her heavily shod feet. Her sallow, snuff-besmeared face lighted up on beholding her visitor, and she extended a hand, which, soiled as it was, the elegant and fastidious Isadore Montalbert dared not refuse.

The latter was approaching with extreme caution the subject that had brought her there at so unusual an hour, when the woman suddenly confronted her with a look that dispelled whatever of doubt might yet remain, as she exclaimed:

"You have a plot ahead, and want my services. Well, I am ready-for generous pay, mind you, and prompt-to do all you wish. Shouldn't

in its unwonted quiet seemed to her excited imagination to be constantly haunted by the shade of him who had so recently been its master-the stern, morose man, whom she had so feared.

An air of dreamy indifference had always marked Evangeline De Vere's manner toward the circle of associates selected for her by Mrs. Montalbert, for they were mere people of fashion, while Evangeline's mind was of a cast far above mediocrity in intellectual capacity, and keenly alive to poetic inspiration. Hence, the young girl had led a weary life till chance one day brought within her sphere a congenial soul in the person of Alvar Lavalette. Tempted by the beauty of the night, she had ventured alone on the river in a light skiff, confident that she could manage it, and was in a position of great danger when Alvar Lavalette, who was returning from a solitary boating excursion, came most opportunely to her assistance, saving her from almost certain death. The youth's parents, who were advanced many years in life's decline, had long since withdrawn from fashionable gaieties, and as Alvar had no taste for them, the two would perhaps never have met, but for the occurrence just related, although his own stately home was within a few miles of the Montalberts'. But having met, well suited as they were to each other, the natural result followed, and when Isadore Montalbert learned their secret, they had been for two months betrothed.

This perfidious woman had been long revolving in her mind a plan for the death of Evange. line, as well as of her own husband, and the impression she had given, and to which the young girl referred in her conversation with her loverthat she was high-tempered and eccentric-had, in connection with subsequent hints that she had let fall, fully prepared the minds of Isabel Montalbert's associates for the announcement that she was about to make—that Evangeline De Vere had become a maniac!

Shortly after her return from the fortune-teller's, Isadore Montalbert sought Evangeline, and in grief-stricken tones proposed going for a time to a plantation of her deceased husband's some twenty miles distant.

"My presence there is necessary for awhile," she added, "and besides, it will be a change of scene for us both. It is so sad-so sad here!" And she wept.

Evangeline gave a ready assent, for she was

The necessary preparations were soon made, and at the close of an hour, they had started on their way. They had a rapid drive to the spot, and it was with a feeling of relief that Evangeline leaned forth to gaze on the beauties of the scene and inhale the fragrance from the magnolias that shaded the broad avenue along which they were passing, and which terminated at the chief entrance of the mansion, a many-gabled cottage embowered in flowering vines and shrubs. After they had partaken of the choice repast that had been awaiting them, Isadore Montalbert proposed that Evangeline should retire to her apartments, whither she proposed conducting her.

"We both need rest," said she, as she moved on, "and I hope you will find yourself comfortable here. These are your rooms."

And she threw open a door revealing a suite of apartments hung with delicate green draperies, and furnished in a style of airy elegance. Evangeline expressed her satisfaction.

"This is truly a lovely place," said she, stopping at an open window, “and I hope ours will not be a short stay."

You shall remain as long as you wish," was the reply. And a strange smile that perplexed Evangeline passed over her companion's face.

"Here," she added, "is another room which I have fitted even more with a view to your taste than these. How does it suit?"

There was a heavy curtain drawn over the entrance, and on Evangeline's approaching, she was thrust rudely in, and the door was closed and locked with much violence. The young girl stood aghast. She was in a large room, with scanty furniture and bare walls, and from the ceiling hung an iron lamp, whose dim, lurid light gave a deeper gloom to the shadows that thickened as they settled over the more distant portions.

"What does this mean-what does this mean?" she exclaimed, at last. “O, Thou who art the orphan's God, protect me in this evil hour."

A hiss, low and prolonged, fell on her ear as she uttered these words, and she trembled yet more on beholding through a grated aperture the face of Isadore Montalbert, whose swollen and distorted features were clearly revealed by the strong light of the lamp she bore.

"Aha!" she exclaimed, "I am glad you are so well pleased! This is but the beginning of your delights, however. I have been a listener to the softly-spoken phrases poured into your

lover's fond ears, and shall take due care that some of them, your forebodings, be fully realized. You have, in truth, seen Alvar Lavalette for the last time, for ere long you will be borne from here to your grave. Remember, to your grave,

for I hate, ay, hate you!"

And as that hiss again burst through her clenched teeth, her helpless victim gave a heartbroken sob, and fell senseless to the floor.

For a moment, Isadore Montalbert gazed. Then, with a demoniacal expression of joy bursting from her empurpled lips, she turned away, and went to join her lover, who was awaiting her in a lower room.

They embraced-and then in the gleeful tones of remorseless crime, pictured and rejoiced over their successful guilt, both of the past and present, deciding that Evangeline's life should be spared but a few weeks at the utmost.

"

"And shortly after her demise," continued Isadore Montalbert, we will marry, Edmund, for I have decided that we can do so safely. My health has already been seriously affected-the world believes-by the sudden loss of my husband, whom they think I loved in spite of his harshness. Ha, ha! there never was a kinder person, though I think his love for me expired long ago. But, as I was about to say, this second shock following so quickly will render it necessary that I should travel, and such an invalid as I will require a protector, which will be a sufficient apology for our speedy union."

Edmund Redimer was expressing his satisfaction in the strongest terms, when the fortune-teller made her appearance. Her aspect was a little less repulsive than usual, for her toilet had been made with a strict regard to cleanliness.

"Well, Brigita, how fares it with the maiden ?" said her new mistress, in a sarcastic tone.

"She has recovered from her swoon, and is prepared for what is to follow, better, far better than yourself, my fair lady."

These last words were uttered in an impressive tone, whose sweetness contrasted strangely with her habitually rough voice, and at the same time her disguise was thrown aside, and she of the silver tresses stood before the guilty pair. Fixing her eyes upon them, with a look that made them quail, she continued, addressing Isadore Montalbert:

"I perceive you do not know me, and it is not strange. Years, and suffering, and deathfor assuredly to you mine will prove a resurrection -might well hide all remembrance of one, who-"

She was here interrupted by Isadore Montalbert, who had in an aside, directed her lover to secure all means of egress from the room, while

she proceeded to engross the woman's attention. "You are a vile impostor," she exclaimed, "and I assure you you have mistaken your game. Ay, look at me, study me well, and learn that you better had ventured into the lion's den, than thus confronted Isadore Montalbert. But go on," she added, perceiving the outlets were now secured, "I can well afford to listen, for you are in my power. Others here are the tried minions of my will, and before dawn you shall be the occupant of a grave on which the sunbeams will never rest, for know that this house has its dungeons, too."

'If you will listen, it is all I ask. Life to me has long since lost its value," was the quiet reply. "Isadore Montalbert," she continued, with sudden vehemence, "I denounce you as one whose soul is blackened by the foulest crime. Long years ago you plotted with Hugh Montalbert to take the life of his wife, in order that you might fill her place by his side. Ah, I perceive you remember it well. You sat in the room then used as a library, now known as the crimson chamber, and his arms encircled you, while you discussed with him your cruel purpose. And I, his wife, listened with curdling blood-for I had fallen asleep on a pile of cushions in an alcove close by, and awoke in time to hear the whole. Ah, it was tongues of flame eating into my agonized heart, and at last, feeling that if I remained longer I should betray my presence, I arose, and favored by the thickening night shadows, crept from the room. Then came a sudden resolve.

"It shall be as they wish,' I cried; they shall believe me dead, and she whom I raised from the sudden poverty to which her orphanage had reduced her-the viper whom I have cherished in luxury far surpassing her previous condition, shall fill my place, since he wishes it-he, whom in spite of all I cannot hate.'

"And I went forth bearing some garments I had hastily gathered, which, on reaching the river, I threw in. The moon was shining brightly, and I saw them distinctly, as they floated down till they lodged among some rushes. Then I went on, moving over a marshy waste, till just as morning broke, I reached a deserted hut, standing among some leafless trees, about which was waving a drapery of gray moss. "This,' I cried, 'shall be my home. will I wait till Heaven shall avenge my wrongs.' And I did so, subsisting meanwhile on the fruits of my own humble toil, while you, in splendid ease and fancied security, believed me lying beneath the dark waters of the Mississippi. At intervals I came to observe unseen the working of the curse, for I felt that one had been pronounced

Here