“Oh!” ejaculated Louise; and throwing herself into a chair, she burst into a passion of weeping; but her tears were those of joy, and a relief to her overburdened heart.
“Is it too late?” said Harry to himself, as a cold chilly hand seemed to grasp his heart. “No; I can keep my own secret, and I will turn over a new leaf now, and old Crampton shall rule it for me. What an idiot I have been!”
He shuddered as he recalled the scene in Van Heldre’s office, and involuntarily held his hands close to the landing-lamp.
“Poor old fellow!” he said, as his hand involuntarily went towards his vest; “but he’ll soon get over that. He couldn’t have known me in the dark. I—My locket!”
He turned like ice as he gazed down to see that the gold locket he wore at his watch-chain had been torn off.
“No, no; I lost it when I threw myself down on the shingle,” he muttered, as he fingered the broken link. “I could not have lost it there.”
Just then he started, for there was a faint cough on his left.
“Then he has come back,” he cried hastily; and going a few steps along the passage he tapped sharply, and entered Pradelle’s room.