CHAPTER LXXXV.
GETTING READY.
Hope Wayne had not forgotten the threat which Abel had vaguely thrown out; but she supposed it was only an expression of disappointment and indignation.

Could she have seen him a few evenings after the ball and his conversation with Mrs.Delilah Jones, she might have thought differently.
He sat with the same woman in her room.
"To-morrow, then ?" she said, looking at him, hesitatingly.
"To-morrow," he answered, grimly.
"I hope all will go well." "All what ?" he asked, roughly.
"All our plans." "Abel Newt was not born to fail," he replied; "or at least General Belch said so." His companion had no knowledge of what Abel really meant to do.

She only knew that he was capable of every thing, and as for herself, her little mask had fallen, and she did not even wish to pick it up again.
They sat together silently for a long time.

He poured freely and drank deeply, and whiffed cigar after cigar nervously away.

The few bells of the city tolled the hours.