A light step suddenly crossed the threshold, and Elinor Glenalvan appeared in the room, bearing a waiter with a substantial supper arranged upon it. "Papa, were you growing impatient?" she asked; then her startled eyes fell on Bertram Chesleigh, meeting a glance of fiery scorn. "_You here_!" she gasped. The waiter fell from her nerveless hands, and its contents crashed upon the floor. CHAPTER XLVI. "Yes, Miss Glenalvan, it is I," was the answer, as his burning eyes devoured her pale, frightened face. "Did you take me for a ghost?" "Why should I take you for a ghost?" she faltered, trembling, but trying to brave it out with an air of defiance. "Because you tried to murder me last night, and came very near succeeding," he replied. "It is false. How dare you accuse me of such a crime?" she broke out, passionately, flying to her father's side, as if for protection. "How dare you?" echoed John Glenalvan, furiously. Bertram Chesleigh lifted his hand imperiously. "Listen," he said, "I told you I had one more card to play. Your fair daughter there attempted to poison me last night with drugged wine. The physician who saved my life declared that I had taken arsenic in a draught of wine. Do you see where you stand _now_?" "Do not believe him, father; it is false!" cried Elinor, furiously; but John Glenalvan, turning to look into her wild, frightened face, read the signs of guilt too plainly to be mistaken. The sight forced a groan even from his hardened lips. "You see where you stand," repeated Bertram Chesleigh, with stern brevity. "How will you bear to see your cherished daughter dragged into court on such a dreadful charge?" "You will not dare do such a thing," Elinor flashed out, quivering with rage. "That will be as your father says," was the firm reply. "If it pleases him to reveal the secret of Golden Leith's fate, I'll spare you and him; if not, you need expect no mercy from me." The grim _ultimatum_ was spoken. Elinor and her father knew by that flashing eye and stern-set lip that there was no appeal from the calmly-spoken decision. "Coward, to threaten a girl," she cried, taking refuge in vituperation now that denial had failed. But Mr. Chesleigh regarded them in silent scorn, and her father sternly silenced her. He was furious with wrath, and it seemed to him that not even for his daughter's sake could he forego his dear revenge. "Elinor," he said, with a dark frown, "if indeed you have done this thing you must prepare to face the consequences. I will not accede to his demand. Nothing shall balk me of my revenge." Abject terror and despair filled Elinor's soul at those threatening words. She knew too well how guilty she was. She was filled with terror at the too probable punishment of her wickedness. Falling on her knees, she caught her father's hand in hers, and bathed them with her frightened tears.