"It is worth your while to blackmail my mother!" "It pays! it pays!" said Pallant shamelessly. "I must live, you know. Lady Burville is greatly afraid of her present husband, so she keeps me well supplied with money to hold my tongue." "Where did you learn my mother's history?" said Dora, disgusted with this brutal speech. "From the best of all authorities--her first husband." "My father?" "Your father--George Theophilus Carew. I met him in San Francisco some years ago. He was a drunkard and a gambler, Miss Carew. We had some dealings over cards, for you must know that I am a gambler also, though it is to my credit that I don't drink. One day, in a fit of maudlin fear, he told me his story, and how he was seeking for Julian Dargill." "Mr. Edermont?" "Precisely. The man who had taken away his wife. He wanted to kill him." "To kill him?" echoed Dora, starting; "and--and did--did my father succeed in carrying out his intention? Was it George Carew who killed Mr. Edermont?" "Not exactly, Miss Carew," responded Pallant dryly, "for the simple reason that before your father could accomplish his object he died himself." "Died himself! Is my father dead?" "Dead and buried," said Pallant concisely; "dead and buried." CHAPTER XIX. MORE MYSTERIES. When Pallant made this remarkable statement he looked up sharply to see how Dora was affected by it. Her face had flushed hotly, and her eyes had brightened. In place of sorrow, her whole expression was that of relief and gladness. Pallant could not forbear a cynical remark on her want of feeling. "You do not seem sorry to hear that your father is dead, Miss Carew." "I do not know why I should display a sorrow which I do not feel," she replied quietly. "You must remember, Mr. Pallant, that my parents are nothing to me. I was taken away from them when I was a year old, and I have no feeling of love towards them. I am glad that my father is dead." "May I ask why?" "Because, had he lived, he might have been guilty of murder. At least, I am spared the dishonour of having a criminal for a parent." Pallant chuckled, and seemed about to speak. However, he thought better of it, and merely turned away his face to hide a peculiar smile. Dora took little notice of his action, being absorbed in her own thoughts. "Is this what you told Mr. Edermont in the conversation you had with him?" "Yes. I was sorry for the miserable little creature. The thought of Carew roaming the earth in search of him was his constant nightmare. It did not matter to me whether he knew or not. Certainly, it did not affect my plans, so--I never inflict useless cruelty, Miss Carew--I told him the truth: that his lifelong enemy was dead and buried; that henceforward he could sleep in safety." "The result proved your assertions to be false."