"Yes, I knew," Virginia confessed again, her head hanging, "but it was the only chance to get the money, and I thought I’d risk it. I _did_ risk it, and have come away empty-handed. I’m safe, but my poor mother—" "Put that woman out of it for one minute, for God’s sake!" Ann hurled at her. "And right here I want it understood I didn’t leave a warm bed to-night to do her a favor. I done it, that’s all there is about it, but keep her out of it." "All right," the girl gave in. "I don’t want to make you mad after what you have done, but I owe it to myself to show you that I was thinking only of her. I am not bad at heart, Mrs. Boyd. I wanted to save my mother’s life." "And you never thought of yourself, poor child!" slipped impulsively from Ann’s firm lips. "Yes, yes, I believe that." "I thought only of her, till I found myself locked there in his room and remembered what, in my excitement, I had promised him. I promised him, Mrs. Boyd, to make no outcry, and—and—" Virginia raised her hands to her face. "I promised, on my word of honor, to wait there till he came back. When you knocked on the door I thought it was he, and when you opened it and came in and stood above me, I thought it was all over. Instead, it was you, and—" "And here we are out in the open air," Ann said, shifting the revolver to the other hand. She suddenly fixed her eyes on Virginia’s thin-clad shoulders. "You didn’t come here a cool night like this without something around you, did you?" "No, I—oh, I’ve left my shawl!" the girl cried. "He took it from me, and kept it. He said it was to bind me to my promise to stay till he got back." "The scoundrel!—the wily scamp!" Ann muttered. "Well, there is only one thing about it, child. I’m going back after that shawl. I wouldn’t leave a thing like that in the hands of a young devil beat in his game; he’d make use of it. You go on home. I’ll get your shawl by some hook or crook. You run over to my house on the sly to-morrow morning and I’ll give it back to you." "But, Mrs. Boyd, I—" "Do as I tell you," the elder woman commanded, "and see that you keep this thing from Jane Hemingway. I don’t want her to know the part I’ve taken to-night. Seems to me I’d rather die. What I’ve done, I’ve done, but it isn’t for her to know. I’ve helped her daughter out of trouble, but the fight is still on between me and her, and don’t you forget it. Now, go on; don’t stand there and argue with me. Go on, I tell you. What you standing there like a sign-post with the boards knocked off for? Go on home. I’m going back for that shawl." Virginia hesitated for a moment, and then, without speaking again, and with her head hanging down, she turned homeward. XXII As Ann Boyd reached the veranda, on her return to the house, loud and angry voices came from the parlor through an open window.