In youth he had loved a bright, pretty girl, who had looked forward to becoming his wife; but he had never married, because he had not had the means, and the pretty girl died a disappointed woman.

Now, as he watched the stars, he fancied them shining on her grave; fancied the grass waving above her head; studded with large white daisies; and he wished that he were lying by her side, free from care, and at rest.

Strong man as he was his eyes grew dim with tears, and his lips trembled with a deep-drawn, bitter sob.
He was turning away, with a feeling of contempt for his own weakness, when he was startled by the sound of a vehicle driven furiously down Castle street.

What vehicle could it be at that hour of the night--nearly eleven?
Stephen Letsom stood still and watched.

He saw a traveling carriage, with two horses, driven rapidly up to the door of the principal hotel--the Castle Arms--and there stand for some few minutes.