CHAPTER IV.
THE MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW.
Cold and still looked the old house in the moonbeams.

Never was the moon brighter; it lighted the far-stretching garden, it illuminated even the weathercock aloft, it shone upon the portico, and upon one who appeared in it.

Stealing to the portico from the house had come Barbara Hare, her eyes strained in dread affright on the grove of trees at the foot of the garden.

What was it that had stepped out of that groove of trees, and mysteriously beckoned to her as she stood at the window, turning her heart to sickness as she gazed?
Was it a human being, one to bring more evil to the house, where so much evil had already fallen?
Was it a supernatural visitant, or was it but a delusion of her own eyesight?
Not the latter, certainly, for the figure was now emerging again, motioning to her as before; and with a white face and shaking limbs, Barbara clutched her shawl around her and went down that path in the moonlight.
The beckoning form retreated within the dark recess as she neared it, and Barbara halted.
"Who and what are you ?" she asked, under her breath.

"What do you want ?" "Barbara," was the whispered, eager answer, "don't you recognize me ?" Too surely she did--the voice at any rate--and a cry escaped her, telling more of sorrow than of joy, though betraying both.