Without delay he packed a small valise, and hurried to the scene of action. The steamboat reached the wharf at an early hour, but his faithful ally was there to meet him. Miss Starr reached home the day the dispatch was sent, and might remain through the week. On some pretense Osborne was to delay the ceremony of presentation till the detective had a chance to try his skill. The mail did not reach Belleview for several hours. At the appointed time, however, the ancient vehicle rolled into the village. The special agent had three packages in readiness, addressed to three different offices below, and as the pouch was about to be closed, stepped up to the postmaster, introduced himself officially, dropped in the decoys, and saw the bag locked and placed on the mail wagon. One of the letters contained the three collars. For his own convey "At his request, a female clerk ripped open the ance he had previously ends, when he wrote his own name on the arranged to have a carriage at the door of the hotel, and on the way thither rather unfortunately met Judge Winchester. The old gentleman seemed to be annoyed at the sudden reappearance of the detective, and inquired brusquely, "You here again? What's in the wind now?" "O, nothing in particular, may it please the court," re sponded the agent; and, not caring after his late experience to indulge the worthy magnate in further confidences, he hurried on to the hotel, stepped into the carriage, and was off on a lively trot. It was a beautiful day in summer. The smooth, level road gradually widened into a broad highway, lined on each side with cultivated fields, interspersed with occasional patches of forest. Further on, the drive passed under a long arch of overhanging elms, which some beneficent patriarch of a former generation had planted by the roadside for the benefit of posterity. The limbs of the stately trees interlacing overhead formed a delightful screen to protect the traveler from the sun. Quaint and old-fashioned but capacious houses, some of them built in the last century, still gave shelter to the descendants of the original settlers. On a beautiful elevation, sloping gently to the street, stood a fine old residence, conspicuous for size and for the elegance of its surroundings, which, from the description that had been given him, the officer recognized at once as the homestead of the Starrs, and the present location of the Beulah post-office. Not a speck dimmed the pure white exterior of the baronial mansion, save where the deep verdure of vines, crawling in and out of the trellis-work, or twining around the balconyposts and hanging in graceful festoons from above, toned down the brightness that otherwise would have been too glairy to please the eye. The lawn in front, laid out by an artist in landscape gardening, showed minute attention to details. Hedge-rows walled in the various walks, and about the grounds flowers bloomed in endless profusion. The place seemed to be the chosen abode of innocence, of taste, and of purity. One could hardly suspect that crime lurked in such a home without an uneasy dread of the retribution threatened against harsh, unfounded, and cruel judgments. As he drove on, his moralizing was interrupted by the rumble of distant thunder. A black cloud shot upward from the western horizon, and threw a curtain over the sun, typical PRESENTIMENTS OF EVIL. 461 perhaps of a far more somber curtain soon to drop its dark folds over a house that had braved the storms for generations, with no seam to betray weakness, and no spot to sully its fame. The officer drove slowly, to allow the mail wagon to overtake him; but so many vehicles were abroad that no opportunity to examine the pouch was presented till they had nearly accomplished the seven miles between Beulah and Greenwood. He finally succeeded, however, and, on emptying the contents of the sack, found that two of the three packages were missing. One of the stolen letters contained the marked collars. In view of the lateness of the hour and the threatening aspect of the clouds, the special agent decided to defer further operations till the next day, and accordingly drove back on a brisk trot by the shortest cut to Belleview. It might be hazardous to permit so much time to elapse before descending on the lair of the robber; but in hunting for the contents of rifled decoys, one is compelled to risk certain chances, as precipitancy and procrastination are about equally dangerous, and prescience counts for little where so much depends on the caprice of the thief. At half past ten o'clock the next morning, the officer drove up to the hitching-post in front of Deacon Starr's grounds. Brushing off the surplus dust, for the storm of the previous afternoon began and ended in blackness and wind, he strolled slowly up the graveled walk to the front door, which stood open. He knocked, but there was no response. Entering the hall, he found the door to the parlor also open. No fear of thieves or burglars ever disturbed evidently the serenity of the household. While to outward appearance the establishment was deserted, sounds of music came from the drawing-room in the rear of the parlor. The air, sung in a sweet, melodious, cultivated voice, with an accompaniment executed brilliantly on the piano, was from the opera of the "Bohemian Girl," "You'll Remember Me." Had the shadow of coming events already fallen darkly across the pathway of the poor girl? Was she half consciously singing a dirge over the sunny years of youth, whose cloudless joy and splendor were to be wrecked by the gathering tempest? Had the spirit of prophecy entered her soul to find sad utterance in the voice of music? The visit of the stranger was indeed to be memorable, separating the past from the future of the unhappy singer by an abyss so broad and deep that the fragments of her disrupted life were to seem forever after to belong to two distinct beings related only by the thread of consciousness. The Deacon's Mansion. The performer was so wholly engrossed in the music that the caller was obliged to knock loudly before the raps were heard above the plaintive heart-cries of the song. At length her attention was attracted; the music stopped, and was "TAKE ANY SHAPE BUT THAT." 463 succeeded by the rustle of female garments. The folding-doors leading into the front room rolled back, and in the embrasure stood a girl of eighteen or twenty, whom the stranger knew instinctively to be Miss Rebecca Starr. Tall, willowy, and graceful, with dark, lustrous eyes, and hair of raven blackness, the effect of which was intensified by contrast with a white rose that nestled in its luxuriant coils, her face and figure, replete with maidenly dignity, seemed to exact the deference recognized as due to cultivated womanhood. The officer, accustomed to turmoil and danger, to handling all sorts of criminals from the desperado to the sneak, was now ready to exclaim, "Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, Perplexed and embarrassed, the officer wished himself anywhere else on the face of the green earth. But he had embarked on the voyage, and retreat was impossible. As the beautiful creature looked at him inquiringly, he was compelled to account for his presence in some way, and hence remarked apologetically, "I have probably made a mistake; if so, I trust you will pardon me. But when I entered I was under the impression that the post-office was kept here, and desired to make some inquiries." "You are not mistaken, sir," replied she, in a low, sweet voice; "the office is kept in a room across the hall." "Can I see the postmaster?" "Not now, sir. He has gone to call on a neighbor, and may be absent several hours." "May I inquire who has charge of the office in his absence?" "O, sir, there is very little to be done, and father attends to that." At the same time she walked past the officer to the open |