"Yes, she is like her father--the more pity! For there was madness in his blood," Mrs. Arnold muttered inaudibly; "and I, oh! God--all my life I have fostered her evil passions, in my greed of gold, until now, when her reason totters on the brink of insanity. Oh! that I might undo my part in this fearful tragedy, and save her from the gulf that yawns beneath her feet!" Overcome by her late remorse and terrible forebodings, she hid her face in her hands while a nervous trembling seized upon her from head to foot. Felise paused in her frenzied walk and eyed her curiously. "Mother, are you turning coward in the face of danger?" she asked, with a ring of contempt in her voice. There was no reply. The bowed face still rested on the trembling hands, the form still shook with nervous terror. Something in the weakness and forlornness of that drooping attitude in the mother who had subordinated everything else to her daughter's welfare, struck like a chill upon Felise, and partially tamed the devil raging within her. She spoke in a gentler tone: "Rouse yourself, mother. See! I have quite sobered down, and am ready to discuss the matter as calmly and dispassionately as you could wish. Ask what you please, and I will answer." Mrs. Arnold looked up, taking new heart as she saw that Felise still retained the power to subdue her fiery passions. "Then tell me, dear, what else Colonel Carlyle has done besides causing Leslie Dane's arrest," said her mother. Felise grasped the arms of her chair and held herself within it by a frenzied effort of will. Her voice was low and intense as she answered: "Mother--he found out that Bonnibel was about to fly from him last night--just as I told you she would, you remember--and he--he actually locked her into her rooms, turned Lucy Moore, her maid, into the street--and is keeping his wife a prisoner to prevent her escape." Mrs. Arnold was too astonished to speak for a minute or two. At length she found voice to utter: "How know you that, Felise?" "I have a spy in the chateau, mother--nothing that transpires there remains long unknown to me," returned the daughter, calmly. Again there was momentary silence and surprise. Mrs. Arnold's weaker nature was sometimes confounded by a new discovery of her daughter's powerful capabilities for evil. "What must Bonnibel's feelings be under the circumstances?" she exclaimed at last. "I cannot imagine," was the dry response. "Will she confess the truth to him, do you think?" "I cannot tell; I hope she _will not_," said Felise with strong emphasis. "I thought you wished him to know the truth. Was not that a part of your cherished scheme of revenge?" "Yes, it was, but 'there's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip,' you know. And now that he has prevented her escape with Leslie Dane, and caused the artist's arrest, the only chance of safety for you and me lies in his keeping her a close prisoner until the trial is over." "What can that avail us, Felise?"