"I am sorry," she said, slowly, gently, "that you spoke in that strain now. This is not the time for such matters----" "Then a time may come, Marion--a time may come soon or late? I do not care when----" "No," she answered, quietly, resolutely. "That time came and went long ago. Be silent on that subject. I want to speak of long ago." He groaned, and struck his forehead with his clenched fist. "It was scarcely fair of me to ask you to come. Will you answer my questions?" "Ask me what you please. I'll do it. The only hope now left to me is that you will allow me to serve you." "My next question may be, must be painful to you." He laughed bitterly. "That does not matter. Nothing can matter now, except feeling I can be of no use to you." "What means of influence had you over my husband beyond what I knew of?" "I am not in the least pained by that question. I was a poor idiotic fool to give you up, but I could not support you if I married you on my own means then. I had no means. But still less could I, vile as I was, marry you on money got from him." "What influence had you?" "I had only one spell to conjure with." "And that was?" "The name of Fahey." "How did you employ that name?" "I said to him once, 'Is Fahey still loyal?' I said it half in jest. We were alone. He begged of me never to mention that name again, as it recalled his awful condition in Florence. He said if I would do him the favour of never referring to that circumstance or name, he would be my life-long debtor--adding: 'And I mean what I say, and that it shall have practical results.'" "He meant money." "Yes." "Was that before or after he gave you the thousand pounds?" "Before--some months before. But now-poor Davenport is no more, and cannot be hurt by any one. And Fahey is dead, and can hurt no one, though foolish old women frighten themselves with the thought that they have seen his ghost. Did you know this Fahey?" She shuddered. This was the first sign of feeling she showed. What it sprang from he could not guess. "I did," she answered, unsteadily. "And you believe this story about the ghost?" "No." "What then?" "That"--with another shudder--"he is alive." "Alive, Marion--alive! You are overexcited. You are talking nonsense. Go and lie down. You are worn out." "I am. I feel my head whirling round. Leave me." He rose obediently to go. "My mind is giving way, Tom." That name spoken by her lips again rooted him to the spot. "They suspected you, Tom, of that awful deed, and they say he did it himself. I am going mad. Surely this is madness." "What--what! Marion!" "And now I suspect--_him!_" "Whom, in the name of heaven?" "Fahey. He was jealous of you both. Why did you put out the lights----" She tottered! CHAPTER XXXVIII. "WHERE'ER I CAME I BROUGHT CALAMITY."