She turned back a corner of the blanket, and gave him a glimpse of the little pink face, and the babe set up a feeble and pitiful little wail. It was as though the unconscious little creature repeated its mother's plaintive remonstrance against making such an innocent little angel the instrument for consummating a cruel revenge. But Xenie was deaf to the voice of conscience, or she might have fancied that its accusing voice spoke loudly in the wail of the little babe. She looked at Howard Templeton with a glow of triumph in her face, her black eyes shining like stars. The wind and the rain tossed her dark, loosened ringlets about her, making her look like some mad creature with that wicked glow of anger and revenge in her beautiful, spirited face. "Say, is it not a glorious revenge?" she cried. "You scorned me because I was poor. I was young, I was fair, I was loving and true, but all that counted for nothing in your eyes. For lack of gold you left me. Did you think my heart would break in silence? Ah, no, I swore to give you back pang for pang, and I have taken from you all that your base heart ever held dear--gold, shining gold. Through me you will be stripped of all. Is it not a brilliant victory? Ha! ha!" His blue eyes flashed down into her vivid, black ones, giving her hate for hate and scorn for scorn. In a low, concentrated voice, he said: "Are you not afraid to taunt me thus? Look there at that seething ocean beneath its shroud of mist. Do you see that no one is near? Do you know that there is no one in hearing? Suppose I should take you up with your revenge in your arms and cast you into yonder sea? The opportunity is mine, the temptation is great." "Yet you will not do it," she answered, giving him a glance of superb scorn. "Why do you say I will not do it?" he asked; "why should I spare you? You have not spared me! You are trying to wrest my inheritance from me. We are sworn and deadly foes. I have nothing to lose by your death, everything to gain. Why should I not take the present opportunity and sweep you from my path forever?" He paused and looked down at her in passionate wrath while he wondered what she would say to all this; but she was silent. "Again I ask you why should I spare you?" he repeated; "are you not afraid of my vengeance, Xenie St. John?" "No, I am not afraid," she repeated, defiantly, yet even as she spoke he saw that a shudder that was not of the morning's cold shook her graceful form. A sudden consciousness of the truth that lurked in his words had rushed over her. "Yes, we _are_ deadly foes," she repeated to herself, with a deeper consciousness of the meaning of those words than she had ever had before. "Why should he spare me, since I am wholly in his power?" His voice broke in suddenly on her swift, tumultuous thoughts, making her start with its cold abruptness.