She had written that also with a pencil, as she could write more rapidly, and she had thought perhaps he would think it was the one she had written in John Loker’s house. “Because I saw John Loker sign the other,” he said, with a malignant scowl, adding: “Now, will you hand the other over to me?” “No, sir, I will not,” was the firm reply. He seemed staggered for a moment at this. “You won’t?” he repeated, at length, with an oath, and fixing his eyes upon her in a way that made her catch her breath and feel as if her strength was forsaking her. “Do you know,” he added, “that you are in the power of a desperate man?” “Yes, I suppose so; but that paper is of more importance to me than any other possession in the world.” “Ah, ha! is that the way the wind blows? _He’s_ a lover, eh?” laughed the villain, coarsely, and with a leer that made the blood boil in the young girl’s veins and glow hotly in her cheeks. “Allow me to ask,” he continued, with a sinister gleam in his eye, “if it is more precious to you than your—_life_?” She shrank from him in sudden terror at the question, but, after a moment’s thought, she said: “N-o, I cannot say that it is; but I do not think you would quite dare to _murder_ me to get it. At all events _I shall not give it to you_.” He looked at her with something akin to admiration on his face; he evidently had not expected to find her so resolute, but at the same time her obstinacy angered him. “You think I would not _dare_ to put you out of the way?” he repeated, savagely. “What good would it do you? You surely would not accomplish your object then,” Editha strove to say, dauntlessly, but feeling inwardly very weak and trembling. He saw the force of her argument and swore again, and, turning to her writing-desk, began turning over its contents. Of course, he did not find what he sought there, and then commenced a general search of the room. Bureau drawers, boxes, and every other receptacle that she had were overturned and thoroughly searched. Her closets also were ransacked, and the pockets of every dress turned wrong side out, but with the same result. Her jewel-casket stood on her dressing-case open, with all her jewelry nicely arranged on its velvet cushion. Editha’s heart stood still as she saw him approach this, but she did not move or give a sign of the great fear that oppressed her. He stooped and looked at the pretty things there, took up one or two and examined them more closely, then laid them back again in their place, and turned his attention to something else. A mighty burden rolled from the fair girl’s heart as this danger was passed. She had expected he would put every article in his pocket, and then perhaps turn the box upside down to seek for more; but evidently he did not care for plunder to-night. At last he came and stood before her. “I have searched everywhere. It must be upon your person,” he said, with a desperate gleam in his eye. She started from him with a look of terror.