“My life is not lived upon the highest plane, for I long for revenge; for revenge upon the one you adore. Her name is upon your lips at this moment, and you breathe a prayer for her protection. Beware! if I have the power, her downfall will come shortly. She upon whom I wish for revenge to fall, is Helen Hinckley. And I am the one who adores you. “MARRIET MOTUBLE.” “That is not all,” said the Governor, “but before I read this, which is entitled, ‘A Matter of Business,’ I will ask you what I would better do in regard to the case. It seems so perfectly absurd that anyone would kill himself for such a foolish reason. I cannot imagine one loving another for whom he knew the other had no regard.” “Love,” replied the great scientist, “is a strange thing. It goes out toward the object of its desire, prompted by no other motive, it would seem, than to do the will of the person upon whom it is lavished. Miss Motuble has my sympathies, most certainly, because she is in error. What she terms love is a misnomer. However, we must investigate. If self destruction has not taken place, we must use every means known to science to prevent it.” Julio Murillo was walking back and forth, as was his custom, his hands clasped tightly behind him, intent upon what was being said, and forming his own conclusions. “Have you no suggestions to offer, friend Julio?” asked the Governor. “Yes, your Honor,” he replied, facing the two men; “I would suggest that you do not let this matter annoy you in the least. Miss Motuble will never take her own life!” “You speak so positively, I am encouraged. But what makes you think so, friend Julio?” “The reasons he will give, Miguey, will be scientific ones, and you can rely upon them,” said Guillermo Gonzales, as he embraced Julio and said: “Tell us upon what grounds you base your statements.” “I am at this moment,” replied Julio, “_en rapport_ with the bewitching, aggressive señorita. She is half reclining in a beautiful lounging-robe, on a couch so rich that Cleopatra would have envied it in her days of splendor. Now she lifts a goblet to her lips and cries: ‘The drink of the gods! What a joke it is to play upon the credulity of the Governor. What the result will be when they search for me and find me peacefully taking my siesta, instead of being no more a mortal, no more of clay, I cannot say. Ha! ha! If I cannot secure his love, I will create an uproar. I will be prominent yet before I die. I will crush the life out of all the scorpions around here. I will, I will!’ She now falls over amongst her pillows embraced in the arms of sleep.” “If there is no doubt about what you tell me, I will certainly hold this young woman accountable for her little confidence game. I have sent Juan to find her address. Should he succeed in finding it you will accompany me to see her,” said the Governor.