"I can't say, unless I see her."
"She is speaking to you now; I am she."
"Is anybody with you?"
Almost overcome with fear, Lily answered, "No; what do you want me for?"
"To give you a letter."
Lily hesitated still: the voice was that of a stranger, the locality was somewhat of a lonely one, and her grandfather had warned her not to open the door at night to any person she did not know, if there was no man in the house.
"Wait," she said, "until my grandfather returns. He will be here presently, and then I will take the letter."
"Then I can't give it to you, miss," the voice said. "My instructions are to give it into your hand, and into your hand only, when there is no one near."
"Why? What is the letter about?" she asked, in an agony of terror, and murmuring inly, "O, why doesn't grandfather return?"
"I don't know what's in the letter. But the gentleman who gave it to me told me to say, if anything like this occurred, that it was a matter of life or death to some one that you loved."