"You have told me nothing of your love," she exclaimed in a hoarse tone. "If you cannot trust me with your confidences as once you used to do, then we can no longer remain the fast friends we have been. We must drift apart. You have already shown that you fear to tell me of your fascination--a fascination that was so near to becoming fatal. You know nothing of Aline Cloud--of who or what she is--yet you love her blindly!" Her well-arched brows knit themselves, her face became at that instant pale and hard set, and she held her breath, as if a sudden determination had swept upon her. She knew my secret, and I stood confused, unable to reply to those quick, impetuous words which had involuntarily escaped her. Did she love me? I wondered. Had jealousy alone prompted that speech? Or was she really aware of the truth concerning the blue-eyed woman whom I had adored for those few fleeting days, and whom I was now seeking to hunt down as a criminal? CHAPTER TWELVE. "YOU! OF ALL MEN!" "No," I admitted, "I was not aware who Aline Cloud was, nor did I know that you were acquainted with her." She started. She had unwittingly betrayed herself. "I--acquainted with her!" she cried in a voice of indignation. "You are mistaken." "But you know her by repute," I said. "Tell me the truth about her." She laughed, a light, nervous laugh, her eyes still fixed upon the water. "You love her!" she exclaimed. "It is useless for me to say anything." "No, no, Muriel," I cried. "I do not love her. How could I love her when I know nothing whatsoever of her? Why, I only saw her twice." "But you were with her a sufficient length of time to declare your love." How could she know? I wondered. Aline herself must have told her. She uttered a falsehood when she declared that she did not know the mysterious fair-faced woman whose power was so mysterious and unnatural. I was puzzled. "Well," I said at length, "I admit it. I admit that in a moment of mad ecstasy I made a foolish declaration of affection--an avowal which I have ever since regretted." She gave me a pitying, scornful look, a glance which proved to me how fierce was her hatred of Aline. "If you had told me of your fascination I might have been able to have explained the truth concerning her. But as you have thought fit to preserve your secret, no end can now be gained by the exposure of anything I know," she said, quite calmly. "What do you know about her, Muriel?" I inquired, laying my hand upon her arm in all seriousness. "Tell me." But she shook her head, rather sadly perhaps. The bright expression of happiness which had illuminated her countenance until that moment had died away and been replaced by a look of dull despair. The sun shone down upon her brightly, the birds were singing in the trees and all around was gladness, but she seemed troubled and oppressed as one heartbroken.