"The instrument she plays on is the zither."
"Yes, sir."
"She is playing at the present moment."
"If you say so, sir. My hearing is not so good as yours."
"It is Beatrice who is playing," said Ronald, and his tone now was very quiet. "I knew she was not dead, and that we should meet again."
CHAPTER XXIX.
[DR. COOPER IS IMPRESSED.]
These startling words caused us to throw aside the restraint we had placed upon our movements. We darted forward to the gate, from which spot we could just catch the faint sounds of music. The truth burst upon me like a flash of light. The mystery of Beatrice's supposed death was made clear to me, and the unspeakable villainy of which Mr. Nisbet was guilty was revealed. But alas for poor Barbara, who was eagerly waiting to embrace her sister Molly!
Mme. Bernstein joined us at the gate, and cautioned us to be careful not to speak aloud. We removed to a safe distance, and were about to discuss our plans and decide upon our course of action when Ronald settled the matter for us.
"Mme. Bernstein," he said, addressing her, "the lady is a dear friend of mine; she was to have been my wife. A foul wrong has been done to her, and Providence has directed our steps here to save her. We must enter that ill-fated house to-night."