"Dear friend, I infinitely prefer transacting this little business with you," he said, laughing again. "We shall not quarrel; for your sake I will content myself with the twenty-five thousand dollars, but I warn you I cannot wait after Monday." "I tell you it will be ready on that day." "The letters and that troublesome little document shall be placed in your hands--I promise on----" She interrupted him contemptuously: "There is nothing you could swear by that would make the oath worth hearing." The man bowed, as if she had paid him a compliment. He was so utterly hardened that even her burning scorn could not affect him. "Don't write to me, don't send to me," she said; "it will only be dangerous--more so for you than for me--remember that." "I can trust you; I have the utmost faith in your word." She gathered her shawl about her and moved towards the door. "Are you going already?" "That bracelet!" she said, with a sudden thought. "You parted with it of course--could you get it back?" He shrugged his shoulders. "I received your note concerning it; we will see--very doubtful I fear. But when I am once gone--even if your husband does discover it--there will be no trouble." She turned her back on him. He started forward to open the door for her, his hand touched hers on the knob, she started as if a scorpion had stung her, but he only cast a smile in her face and allowed her to pass out. "A wonderful woman!" he said to himself, after she had disappeared. "What a pity she hates me so; the only woman in the world worth having at your feet." He went to the table, searched among the bottles till he found one that still contained brandy, poured the contents into a glass and drank with feverish eagerness. "That'll put a little life in me," he muttered. "Well, there is nothing for it but to wait. I must keep myself very quiet. I think I'll have some breakfast--at any rate I can afford to leave this den." He pulled out a pocket-book with a laugh, glanced at the contents and put it away. "Luck enough for a parlor and bed-room in the best uptown hotel for a week or so," he muttered; "pah! how I loathe this hole!" North threw off his dressing-gown, bathed his face in cold water, arranged his dress a little, and went down stairs in search of his morning meal. Elizabeth Mellen hurried through the narrow street in which the hotel stood, as if trying to walk herself into calmness. Once she murmured: "Five days more--five! If I can live through them and keep the tempest back I may be safe. If I can! Such a dread at my heart--worse as the time shortens--oh heavens, if discovery should come now when the haven is so near!" CHAPTER XLVI. THE PAWNBROKER'S SHOP.