She held her breath. By the faint ray of the distant electric light I saw her face had become changed. She betrayed her emotions and her nervousness by the quick twitching of her fingers and her lips. "No," she said at last very decisively; "you must abandon all thought of friendship with me. It is impossible--quite impossible!" "Would my friendship be so repugnant to you, then?" I asked quickly. "No, no, not that," she cried, laying her trembling fingers upon my coat-sleeve. "You--you don't understand--you cannot dream of my horrible position--of the imminent peril of yours." "Peril! What do you mean?" I asked, very much puzzled. "You are in grave danger. Be careful of yourself," she said anxiously. "You should always carry some weapon with you, because----" and she broke off short, without concluding her sentence. "Because--why?" "Well, because an accident might happen to you--an accident planned by those who are your enemies." "I really don't understand you," I said. "Do you mean to imply that there is some conspiracy afoot against me?" "I warn you in all seriousness," she said. "I--well, the fact is, I came out here--I followed you out--in order to tell you this in secret. Leave here, I beg of you; leave early to-morrow morning, and do not allow the hotel people to know your new address. Go somewhere--far away--and live in secret under an assumed name. Let Owen Biddulph disappear as though the earth had swallowed him up." "Then you are aware of my name!" I exclaimed. "Certainly," she replied. "But do--I beg of you for your own sake--heed my warning! Ah! it is cruel and horrible that I--of all women--have to tell you this!" "I always carry a revolver," I replied, "and I have long ago learned to shoot straight." "Be guarded always against a secret and insidious attack," she urged. "I must go in--now that I have told you the truth." "And do you, then, refuse to become my friend, Miss Pennington?" I asked very earnestly. "Surely you are my friend already, because you have told me this!" "Yes," she answered, adding, "Ah! you do not know the real facts! You would not ask this if you were aware of the bitter, ghastly truth. You would not ask my friendship--nay, you would hate and curse me instead!" "But why?" I asked, amazed at her words. "You speak in enigmas." She was silent again. Then her nervous fingers once more gripped my arm, as, looking into my face, her eyes shining with a weird, unusual light, she replied in quick, breathless sentences--