“I went up one night to see, and I was frightened out of my life, at first. And then I found out. There was a spring--just a simple little spring--so light that the weight of a rat on it could set the thing going. And there were plenty of rats there. It was just an ordinary old-fashioned spinet till the spring touched the mechanism, then it played of itself. While it was playing like that you could not sound a note on it. Afterward, when the tune was done, you could play. I made a dress like the ghost’s, or the picture that was supposed to be the ghost’s, so that if any one met me in the passages they would scream and run. And I found out he meant to murder Cristiane while I was behind the library door.” “Did you know Wray made Sir Gaspard’s will?” She nodded. “I heard him say so.” “And for fear it should go wrong he forged another,” Cylmer went on. “Don’t look sad, darling. He deserves everything.” But she shivered. “It has all been such a nightmare. I wish I had had no hand in it. Miles, can you truly love a girl like me?” She was earnest, pale, as she looked at him. He kissed the hand that was in his, where a new ring shone. “Who nearly gave her life twice for another’s,” he said, with adoration. “I liked her, in a way. Till she told you things.” She hid her face on his arm. “Miles, do you know I meant to let her die the last time? You were my world--she had taken you from me.” “You never meant it, my heart,” he whispered. “You only thought so.” “And I stole that card of yours, so that you might come to me.” Cylmer lifted the head that lay so low, and looked straight into her shamed eyes. “Do you think a hundred cards would have mattered, if I had loved her?” he demanded. “You were mine, and I was yours, from the first hour, though I was too blind to know.” “But I meant when I left you to live----” He stopped her words on her lips. “Let me forget--that day!” he begged, “for it was I who was to blame. If you had slipped from me your life would have been on my head.” She looked at him with a curious pride. “Miles,” she said slowly, “I am my mother’s daughter still, and there are the diamonds!” The man caught her close and hard. “If they were all the world it would not matter,” he said stoutly. “If I had only seen you and passed by,” his voice full of love, of reverence, “I should be proud of having once seen you, my witch that was so true.” CHAPTER XXXV. THE DIAMONDS. “If you owed him no ill-will, why did you steal those diamonds?” The court-room was crowded, packed with idle people come to see a man tried for his life. It was more exciting than a theater, for the drama was real.