"In peace," returned Mrs. Conroy, scornfully; "your note was a peaceful one, indeed!" "Ah! but I knew not how else to make you hear me. I had news--news you understand, news that might save you, for I came from the woman who holds the grant. Ah! you will listen, will you not? For one moment only, Julie, hear me, and I am gone." Mrs. Conroy, with abstracted gaze, leaned against the tree. "Go on," she said coldly. "Ah! you will listen then!" said Victor, joyfully; "and when you have listened you shall understand! Well. First I have the fact that the lawyer for this woman is the man who deserted the Grace Conroy in the mountains--the man who was called Philip Ashley, but whose real name is Poinsett." "Who did you say?" said Mrs. Conroy, suddenly stepping from the tree, and fining a pair of cruel eyes on Ramirez. "Arthur Poinsett--an ex-soldier, an officer. Ah, you do not believe--I swear to God it is so!" "What has this to do with me?" she said scornfully, resuming her position beside the pine. "Go on--or is this all?" "No, but it is much. Look you! he is the affianced of a rich widow in the Southern Country, you understand? No one knows his past. Ah, you begin to comprehend. He does not dare to seek out the real Grace Conroy. He shall not dare to press the claim of his client. Consequently, he does nothing!" "Is this all your news?" "All!--ah, no. There is one more, but I dare not speak it here," he said, glancing craftily around through the slowly darkening wood. "Then it must remain untold," returned Mrs. Conroy, coldly; "for this is our last and only interview." "But, Julie!" "Have you done?" she continued, in the same tone. Whether her indifference was assumed or not, it was effective. Ramirez glanced again quickly around, and then said, sulkily, "Come nearer, and I will tell you. Ah, you doubt--you doubt? Be it so." But seeing that she did not move, he drew toward the tree, and whispered--"Bend here your head--I will whisper it." Mrs. Conroy, evading his outstretched hand, bent her head. He whispered a few words in her ear that were inaudible a foot from the tree. "Did you tell this to him--to Gabriel?" she asked, fixing her eyes upon him, yet without change in her frigid demeanour. "No!--I swear to you, Julie, no! I would not have told him anything, but I was wild, crazy. And he was a brute, a great bear. He held me fast, here, so! I could not move. It was a forced confession. Yes--Mother of God--by force!" Luckily for Victor the darkness hid the scorn that momentarily flashed in the woman's eyes at this corroboration of her husband's strength and the weakness of the man before her. "And is this all that you have to tell me?" she only said. "All--I swear to you, Julie--all."