The watery moonlight breaking through a rift in the clouds, shone out for an instant above the trees, and showed them a man and a woman, standing face to face, earnestly talking.

Mr.Edwards barely repressed a cry of consternation.
"Good Lord!" he gasped; "it's my lady!" "Hush!" cried Sybilla.

"Who is the man ?" As if some inward prescience told him they were there, the man lifted his hat at that very instant, and plainly showed his face.
"The Hamerican, by Jove!" gasped the horrified valet.

Sybilla Silver's eyes blazed like coals of fire, and the demoniac smile, that made her brilliant beauty hideous, gleamed on her lips.
She grasped the man's arm with slender fingers of iron, and stood gloating over the scene.
Not one word could they hear--the distance was too great--but they could see my lady's passionate gestures; they could see the white hands clasp and cover her face; they could see her wildly excited, even in that dim light.

And once they saw her take from her pocket her purse, and pour a handful of shining sovereigns into Mr.Parmalee's extended hand.
Nearly an hour they had stood, petrified gazers, when they were aroused as by a thunder-clap.