"I have at last located the mine. I followed the _deseno_--the description of the spot, and all its surroundings--which was in the paper that I--I--found. Good! It is true!--ah, you begin to be interested!--it is true, all true of the locality. See! Of the spot I do not know. Of the mine it has not yet been discovered! "It is called 'One Horse Gulch;' why--who knows? It is a rich mining camp. All around are valuable claims; but the mine on the top of the little hill is unknown, unclaimed! For why? You understand, it promises not as much as the other claims on the surface. It is the same--all as described here." He took from his pocket an envelope, and drew out a folded paper (the papers given to Grace Conroy by Dr. Devarges), and pointed to the map. "The description here leads me to the head waters of the American River. I followed the range of foot-hills, for I know every foot, every step, and I came one day last week to 'One Horse Gulch.' See, it is the gulch described here--all the same." He held the paper before her, and her thin, long fingers closed like a bird's claw over its corners. "It is necessary I should stay there four or five days to inquire. And yet how? I am a stranger, a foreigner; the miners have suspicion of all such, and to me they do not talk easily. But I hear of one Gabriel Conroy, a good man, very kind with the sick. Good! I have sickness--very sudden, very strong! My rheumatism takes me here." He pointed to his knee. "I am helpless as a child. I have to be taken care of at the house of Mr. Briggs. Comes to me here Gabriel Conroy, sits by me, talks to me, tells me everything. He brings to me his little sister. I go to his cabin on the hill. I see the picture of his sister. Good. You understand? It is all over!" "Why?" "Eh? She asks why, this woman," said Victor, appealing to the ceiling. "Is it more you ask? Then listen. The house of Gabriel Conroy is upon the land, the very land, you understand? of the grant made by the Governor to Dr. Devarges. He is this Gabriel, look! he is in possession!" "How? Does he know of the mine?" "No! It is accident--what you call Fate!" She walked to the window, and stood for a few moments looking out upon the falling rain. The face that looked out was so old, so haggard, so hard and set in its outlines, that one of the loungers on the side-walk, glancing at the window to catch a glimpse of the pretty French stranger, did not recognise her. Possibly the incident recalled her to herself, for she presently turned with a smile of ineffable sweetness, and returning to the side of Ramirez, said, in the gentlest of voices, "Then you abandon me?" Victor did not dare to meet her eyes. He looked straight before him, shrugged his shoulders, and said--"It is Fate!" She clasped her thin fingers lightly before her, and, standing in front of her companion, so as to be level with his eyes, said--"You have a good memory, Victor." He did not reply.