“Yes; but you must not believe evil of me,” answered Violet, crimsoning painfully again. She added: “I happened to be in Harold Castello’s company by an accident that I will fully explain at another time. But my situation was a terribly compromising one, and when I became unwittingly a witness of the murder, Harold Castello threatened to blacken my name irretrievably if I dared to betray him. I was young and innocent, and terribly afraid of the world’s verdict, so I kept his secret, and let that old man’s blood cry out in vain against his destroyer for the sake of my own good name.” “But you are sorry you did not risk it all, lady, now that you see what a terrible fate it brought on you. And it is not yet too late. I will help you to escape, and you shall denounce him to the law for the black-hearted murderer that he is!” A terrible groan was Violet’s only reply, and Lena continued, eagerly: “Oh, lady, you will not surely refuse my prayer, for I have sworn to bring home justice to my father’s slayer! And you are the only one who can help me! Oh, when I heard you taunting him to-night my soul rejoiced, for I knew that now I was near to my revenge--that Heaven itself had sent you to my aid.” “Oh, this is dreadful, dreadful!” sobbed Violet. “Hush, Miss Lavarre; let me explain.” “Oh, for sweet pity’s sake do not refuse me!” wept Lena Lavarre, wildly. “But, my poor, unhappy girl, you do not understand my position. He has married me, that fiend, to keep me silent, because no wife can testify against her husband. Do you not know that this is the law?” explained Violet, her heart racked with pity for the wronged girl, and stung with remorse for the silence she had kept too long, and which now could never be broken. The rage and despair of poor Lena Lavarre were beyond description. She paced up and down the beautiful apartment, raving in excitement and breathing maledictions on her destroyer and the murderer of her father. Her beautiful brown eyes, once so soft and tender with the light of love, now glared wildly, almost insanely, and she seemed to forget Violet entirely until she crept timidly to her side, and whispered: “Is it not time for us to go if we hope to escape our enemy?” “Yes, oh, yes--I was forgetting everything in my passion! Come, lady,” cried Lena, catching the girl’s hand and drawing her softly forward to the hall, “you must go as noiselessly as a cat,” she continued, as they stole along the corridors and down the stairs to a little side entrance.