She has escaped Scylla only to fall upon Charybdis. As she hurries along through the familiar streets, her plans are laid. She will go to Lucian Davlin's rooms; nobody will be there to dispute her possession for a day or two to come, and she has possessed herself of the keys, left behind as useless by their outlawed owner. When she ascends the steps, some one, who is lounging past the premises, looks at her narrowly. As she disappears behind the swinging outer door, this lounger becomes wonderfully alert, and hastens away as if he had just discovered his mission. Two hours later, as Cora descends the stairs and emerges into the street, the vision of a monkey-faced old man appears before her. And while another lays a firm detaining hand upon her arm, the old man, fairly dancing with glee, cries out: "Ah, ha! here you are, my pretty sharper! I didn't have these premises watched for nothing, did I? Now I have got you! Bring her along, officer, bring her along. She won't dodge us this time." And Cora is hurried into a cab, closely followed by old Verage, who chatters his doubtful consolation, and laughs his eldritch laughter, and finally consigns her to prison to answer to a charge of swindling. CHAPTER L. "AND THEN COMES REST." At last Oakley is rid of its _intriguants_, its plotters and impostors. And Madeline and Claire sit alone in the chamber of the former, talking of the strange events that have so lately transpired--of Philip Girard's vindication, of Lucian Davlin's punishment, of Edward Percy's death. It is the day following that of the burial, and Mrs. Ralston is lying asleep in her own room, with old Hagar in near attendance. "Poor Mrs. Ralston," says Claire, after a long pause in their converse. "She is thoroughly worn out, and yet, weary as she was, she must have talked with you for hours, Madeline, after we came back from the grave." Over Madeline's face flits an odd, half-sad smile, as she replies, dreamily: "Yes, we talked a long time, dear; Mrs. Ralston was then in the mood for talking. Can't you understand how one may be nervously active, may be at just that stage of bodily weariness when the mind is intensely alive? The excitement of all she had lately undergone was still upon her, and the mind could not resign itself to rest while anything remained unsettled or under a cloud." "Oh, I can understand how that may be." Then, after a pause, "so something remained to be settled?" "Yes." "And, between you, you disposed of the difficulty?" "Yes." Another silence. Then Madeline turns to look at her companion. "Why don't you ask me what the 'difficulty' was?" No answer. "But you want to know?" Claire laughs nervously. "And I want to tell you," pursues Madeline. "First, we talked of ourselves." "Oh!" ejaculates Claire, looking immensely relieved. "Yes, we talked of ourselves first; and we have become great friends." "Of course!" cries Miss Enthusiasm; "I knew you would."