"One word, Haidee, as I think you told me your name was--does that old man, your husband, share the secret you hold against me?" "I told you once," was the answer, "that the secret belongs to me alone." "Yes, but as a man and his wife are one," said Mrs. Vance, cajolingly, "perhaps you would not count him as anyone but yourself--but you see it would make much difference to me. So I ask you again, does he know that secret?" "And I decline to answer that question," answered the old witch craftily. Truth to tell, old Peter was not aware of the secret which his wife assumed to hold against Mrs. Vance, for Haidee, in her miserly avarice, had wished to share its golden fruits alone; but the cunning old creature saw in the anxiety of the lady a menace of danger to herself, and thought it as well to encourage Mrs. Vance's doubts in that direction. "I decline to answer that question," she repeated, with a fearful scowl. "I may as well go then," said the visitor, rising. She was too much frightened at the loneliness of the house and the murderous looks of its inhabitants to remain longer. "But, Haidee, I wish you to understand plainly that you are not to enter the house of Mr. Lawrence again. If you must have more hush-money from me, you can send me a line through the post-office, and I will come here myself and bring you what I can raise. Will you promise to do this?" "I will promise to do as you say if you will keep your word," was the sullen answer, "but if you fail to come with the money within twenty-four hours after I write you, rest assured I shall come after it at the grand house." "I will not fail you," was the firm answer, "and now unfasten the door and let me go." "How do you know that I will let you go?" asked Haidee, tauntingly. "This is a fine old house in which to hold you prisoner--it has old stone dungeons, iron-barred windows." Mrs. Vance shuddered, but she answered in as fearless a tone as possible: "You have no interest in making a prisoner of me, for in that case you would get no profit out of your secret. You will not kill the goose that lays the golden eggs." "No, no," chuckled Haidee, "but perhaps you are laying some plan against me--you wish to have me arrested." "It is not likely. My safety depends on yours--no, no, you need fear nothing from me. Come, come, it grows late. I am very thirsty. Give me a drink of water and let me go." The water was procured, and the visitor drank and departed. She walked hastily over the lonely road, passed the scattered houses, and then hailing an empty hack that was passing, entered it and was driven rapidly homeward, her thoughts, if possible, being more gloomy than before, for now the dread of old Peter Leveret was added to her fears of his wife. She had started out to follow old Haidee with black murder in her heart. She had not believed in the story of the sick husband and children, but had expected to find the old crone alone.