"Never fear, pretty one," said North, with an evil gleam on his face. "Two can play at a game of that sort. If he made the first assault nothing would give me more pleasure. Self-defence is justifiable in law, and his will is made." Elsie was trembling from head to foot, but she leaned one hand heavily on the table that he might not see her agitation. "Man, man, you would not--you dare not meet my brother. You that have wronged him so!" "Excuse me," said North, biting the feather of his pen and looking down on a sheet of note-paper on which he had been about to write; "I do not see this wrong so clearly. If a woman's heart will wander off in any forbidden direction, am I to blame because it flutters into my bosom? And if other hearts follow after----" "Stop!" cried Elsie, stamping her little foot passionately on the carpet. "How dare you speak of a fraud so black, of treason so detestable! I am his sister, sir, and have something of his courage, frivolous as people think me. Persecute her or provoke me too far and I will tell him all." "Indeed you would not," answered North, quietly. "What should prevent me?" "She will. You dare not break a solemn promise to her." "I dare!" she almost shrieked, clenching her little hand in a paroxysm of rage. "I will, if ever you come here again." "No; I think not. Women are weak creatures, but they generally find strength to keep secrets that bring ruin in the telling. You cannot be over anxious to see this proud brother of yours commit murder on----" "On a villain--a household traitor--a--a----" Elsie stopped for want of breath. "Be quiet," said North, rising sternly and towering over her. "I have no dealings with you. One might as well reason with a handful of silkweed thrown upon the wind." "But I will have something to say--everything to say. You have pursued her, plundered her, tortured her long enough. More than once she has been on the brink of discovery by your persistence in prowling over the grounds and from her attempts to conceal your rapacious extortions. All this must end." "With all my heart; let the lady accede to my terms and I disappear." "What are those terms?" "I will write them, and your own fair hands shall give her the note." Elsie did not answer, but her white lips closed firmly, and her blue eyes glittered like steel in the glow of a hot fire, as he dipped his pen deliberately in the bronze inkstand and began to write. "There," he said, folding the note and presenting it to her with a princely air, as if her courage had impressed him with respect; "place this in her hands and she will know how to carry it out." Elsie took the note and hid it away in the folds of her dress. "Do not fail," he said, before taking his hat from the table. "I will not," answered Elsie. "But these cruel visits must cease now and for ever. I will give the note only on this condition." "Her answer will decide that. Now, good-bye."