"Harold Colville, Doctor Pratt and Doctor Heath, you are under arrest," cried the detective, in a ringing voice that fell on the ears of the villanous trio like the trump of doom. "Officers, secure your men."

There was a brief struggle, accompanied by loud cries and oaths, then the superior power of the policemen triumphed, and each man had his prisoner handcuffed and reduced to grim silence. The fourth officer had collared the fat little priest, who was struggling in his grasp.

In the meantime Mr. Lawrence had been vainly striving to restore the consciousness of his fainting daughter. He had laid her upon the bed, and was wildly chafing her cold hands, while he called her by every term of love his fond affection could devise.

"Here, woman," said Mr. Shelton to Mary Brown, who lingered in the hall looking in at the scene, "come and lend a hand in reviving the young lady. She has fainted."

Mary hurried in with alacrity, and Lily was soon restored to partial consciousness, to the great delight of her father. She lay quite still, with half-open eyes, contemplating the banker's face with an expression of languid ecstasy, though she trembled excessively.

"I must get my prisoners away at once," said Mr. Shelton. "Do you think you are strong enough to return to the city with us now, Miss Lawrence?"

She looked up in languid inquiry at the strange yet kindly voice addressing her so respectfully, and made an effort to rise, but fell backward wearily. Doctor Pratt turned about sullenly.

"In my character of a physician," said he, shortly, "I would advise you not to remove the young lady for several hours. She needs complete rest for a little while to recover from the shock she has sustained. You can take my advice or not, as it pleases you."

Mr. Shelton looked at the banker. He in turn looked inquiringly at the pale face of his daughter.

She answered in feeble tones:

"Perhaps he is right. I feel completely exhausted now. Allow me an interval of rest, and then, oh! how gladly I will leave this place with you, dear papa."

"I will take these men into the city, then," said the detective, "and return for you, Mr. Lawrence, as we intend to search the house thoroughly. It is strongly suspected that some persons as sane as you or I are confined here through the wickedness of their relatives and the connivance of this man, Dr. Heath. I will leave two officers on guard here while I am away."

He went out, followed by the officers with their prisoners. Mary Brown followed after, and the banker was left alone with the daughter who had been so strangely restored to him after he had mourned her as dead for many months. He bent down and clasped her in his arms, and his joyful tears rained upon her sweet, white face.

A smile of heavenly sweetness beamed on her pale face. She lay still a little while, nestling against her father's breast, trying to picture to herself the ineffable sweetness of the re-union that awaited her. She pictured to herself the happiness that would shine in the dark eyes of her lover when she came back to him as one from the dead. Her heart began to beat tumultuously, and a tinge of color crept into her wasted cheeks. She closed her eyes to shut out the hateful sight of her prison walls, and fancied herself at home with the loved ones instead.

In the meantime Mr. Lawrence was gazing sadly on her pale and wasted features, marking the mournful ravages privation and sorrow had worked in that once blooming face.

"My Lily," he said, in a tone of anguish, taking up one delicate hand and looking at the blue veins wandering so clearly over its surface, "you have grown to be a lily indeed. How white and wan you look."

She trembled and clung closer to his breast.

"Ah! papa," she murmured, "they tried to starve me into compliance with their wishes. But though my strength failed and my beauty faded, I would not give up, though I thought I should have died with the weakness and the horror of it all."

"The devils!" exclaimed Mr. Lawrence, smothering a stronger malediction between his lips.

"Papa," she said, in her weak tones, "you know all, do you not? How Mrs. Vance hated me for Lancelot's sake? How she tried to murder me?"

"Yes, my dear," he answered, gently. "Thank God, her wicked attempt did not succeed. A terrible retribution awaits her."

"Papa, I can forgive her now since I am restored to you all again," said Lily, sweetly. "Cannot we let her go away and not punish her for her cruelty? I hated her at first, but that is all over with now since she has failed in her endeavor. You know it was all because she loved my Lancelot."

"My love," said the banker, "your sweet forgiveness is angelic; but the secret of Mrs. Vance's crime is in other hands than mine. However much we might wish to shield her from the consequences of her sin we could not do so. The law will have to take its course."

He did not tell her of the marriage that was to take place between her lover and Mrs. Vance that night. In her weak state he feared to shock her by the disclosure. He hoped that they would reach home before the appointed time, and forestall the dreaded event, and he resolved that the knowledge of it should never come to Lily's hearing.

Mr. Shelton returned in a few hours and instituted a search. As he had suspected, several sane persons were found confined in the house, and these were set at liberty, swearing deadly vengeance against Dr. Heath and sundry wicked relatives. The evening was far advanced, and the detective began to see the necessity of his hastening Miss Lawrence away if they were to reach Fifth avenue in time to stop the contemplated marriage of Lancelot to Mrs. Vance. He accordingly stated the fact to Mr. Lawrence.

Lily was feeling stronger and better, and declared her desire to start immediately. The carriage was made as comfortable as possible with pillows and cushions, and the young girl was lifted tenderly into it.

They then set forth rapidly on their journey, but the early winter twilight had given place to night before they reached the banker's house.

Lily's heart beat rapidly as they reached home. She remembered the last time she had glided up those steps, worn and weary, but, oh! so happy in the prospect of reunion with her loved ones, and the cruel hand that had snatched her away in the moment that she beheld the faces she had so longed to behold. She clung convulsively to her father's arm as they stepped upon the pavement.

"Courage, dear," he whispered, feeling how she trembled, and how nervously she glanced about her. "You are safe, love. No one can harm you now."

"Oh! papa," she whispered, after her first startled glance around her. "What does all this mean? Is Ada giving a party?"

Mr. Lawrence glanced up in dismay. He knew what to expect, but he had fondly hoped to reach home before matters went so far.

The mansion was brilliantly lighted from top to bottom. A silken awning extended from the house out to the street to shelter the heads of the guests from the few flying flakes of snow that whirled homelessly through the bitter cold air. They stepped from the carriage upon an elegant Turkey carpet that led to the marble steps.

Every arrangement betokened a grand reception, and as they walked through the wide hall, lined with staring servants, the notes of the wedding march pealed forth from the grand organ in the music-room.

"Oh, God, if we should be too late!" whispered Mr. Lawrence to the detective.

"It seems that we are just in time," whispered Mr. Shelton reassuringly.

"Must we take Lily in with us?" asked the banker dubiously.

"Yes," was the firm reply, and at the words all three stepped across the threshold of the open drawing-room door.

What a startling sight met the eyes of the fair young girl so strangely restored to her home and loved ones!

The room was crowded with guests, elegantly arrayed, the men in their fine black reception suits, the women in their satins and laces and sparkling jewels. Hot-house flowers were in profusion everywhere. A beautiful horse-shoe, formed with white flowers, depended from the ceiling, and beneath it Lily saw a group that seemed to freeze the blood in her veins to solid ice.

Brilliantly beautiful, flushed with love and triumph, Mrs. Vance stood there in elaborate bridal robes, leaning on the arm of a splendidly handsome young man. His face was slightly turned away, but Lily knew it was none other than her own betrothed, Lancelot Darling, who was listening so calmly there to the opening words of the beautiful marriage service read by the lips of the white-haired and venerable clergyman. At one glance she took in the whole appalling scene, and then a shriek of agony, loud, piercing, horror-stricken, broke from the lips of the stricken girl, thrilling every heart with terror.