"Oh, he didn't write," she said hastily, and congratulated herself that Strange had not done so, since, even for so many thousands, he would not be inclined to remain a prisoner for ever; "but perhaps Mr. Kaimes may receive a letter. The man hinted that he would try in that quarter, seeing that I would not yield to his extortion." "You should have had him arrested." "I had not my wits about me. He would have shot me had I summoned the servants." "Bless me, Lady James, had he a weapon?" "A revolver," she replied, unscrupulously; "so you can see how I--a poor weak woman--was intimidated." "That will add to his sentence," said Mr. Hall, upon which she wished she had checked her imagination. It would be foolish to push Strange into a corner, for as yet she could not reckon the exact power of his greed. However, she could not unsay what she had said, and nothing remained but to pray to the fetish and hope for the best. "The Duke must be warned," went on Mr. Hall. "Who?" asked Leah, just as sharply as she had asked Colley. "The new Duke--I beg your pardon, for, of course, if this story is true, Lord James is the Duke of Pentland." "You doubt the story, then?" Hall raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "I cannot give an opinion until I have seen this man and sifted his statements." He paused and looked at her inquiringly. "I presume, Lady James, that this man closely resembles your husband?" "What man? Oh, Garth--yes. You may guess how closely, when the late Duke, Lord Frith, and myself were all deceived. Certainly the likeness was well known in Firmingham. There were reasons," she added with hesitation--"family reasons." "Oh--er--quite so." Mr. Hall, who knew something of the Adamite side of his late Grace, coughed away a laugh. "I can see how the mistake arose, Lady James. Natural enough--oh, dear me--natural enough." "Why do you not give me my proper title?" she asked haughtily. "Pardon me, but the truth of this man's wild story has yet to be proved. May I ask a few needful questions?" A wave of her hand signified that he might, and she submitted to a tolerably stiff examination. Being prepared with artless answers to every question, she emerged triumphantly from the ordeal, and when in possession of _her_ facts, Mr. Hall subscribed to the wickedness of Demetrius and Strange. "A pair of villains, my dear lady. The one sinned for love and the other from avarice; astonishing whither those passions lead us--astonishing. Well, well, we must hope. I trust, for your ladyship's sake, that the story is true." "So do I," wept Leah, producing her handkerchief. "Not for the sake of the title or the money, dear Mr. Hall, but because my poor husband---- Oh----" here she skilfully broke down, for want of something to say. "Pray calm yourself, Lady James. Let us hope that in a few days I shall be able to address you as the Duchess of Pentland." "Give me back my husband--I ask no more," was her magnanimous reply.