An icy fear seemed to clutch her heart. It seemed to her that she had no strength to rise to go on. The gloom, the darkness, coupled with the mystery of the whole affair, began to weigh with crushing force upon her spirits. She laid her fair golden head down on the rough stones, and prayed piteously: "Dear God! give me strength to go on, to bear whatever is before me! For, oh! I love him so, I love him so! and I _must_ know if he is worthy of that love! If he is not--if they tell me he is guilty of that sin with which Fedora accused him, dear God, let me die! I can not live and know him false and wicked! I would sooner throw myself over those rocks down into the terrible cascade, and end my wretched young life!" New courage came with that incoherent prayer, and struggling to her feet, she tottered on, murmuring faintly: "Oh, Ralph, dear Ralph, how much I must love you to risk so much for your sake!" She gained the threshold at last. With a hopeful glance upward at the feeble glimmering light in the window, she knocked upon the door. It was jerked rudely open on the instant, and Kathleen saw before her a frowsy-looking old woman with a short clay pipe in her mouth. This repulsive old woman thrust out a hand and dragged the trembling girl into the mill. "What made you so long? I've been expecting you more than an hour!" she exclaimed, in a tone of savage anger. Not waiting for an answer, she dragged the girl rudely along with her into a small room, and, turning quickly, slipped the bolt into the lock. Kathleen gave a startled glance around the room. No one was there but the old hag, who was gazing at her with malicious eyes, in whose tigerish gleam of hate there was something so strangely familiar that she shuddered with terror, and a name leaped to her lips: "Fedora!" "Yes, Fedora; but you have keen eyes to see through this disguise," cried the woman. "Do you remember, I told you I would murder you if I ever got out of prison? Well, I shall keep my vow!" She sprung savagely toward her, but at the cruel grasp of her foe Kathleen uttered a moan of horror and slipped limply to the floor like one already dead. "Is she dead so easily? I hope not, for I want to torture her first!" hissed Fedora, spurning the prostrate body with her foot. She tore open the door at a slight tap upon it, and stood face to face with Ivan Belmont. He spoke hurriedly: "Ralph Chainey is coming, Fedora! Quick! lock the girl in, and come out and meet him alone. I must not be seen yet." Fedora obeyed him, and Kathleen, coming back to life with a shuddering gasp, found herself alone, locked in, and heard outside the voice of her lover, and the words spoken held her spell-bound. "Kathleen? Where is Kathleen? She told me to meet her here." With a hissing laugh of savage hate, Fedora flung off the hood that she wore and stood revealed, scarred, hideous, gray-haired, but Fedora still--the woman who held his honor in her light keeping and bore his name.