"I must not," said Helen Clive. "What I have to say might involve the lives of others. Listen, then, Helen. Your uncle, Sir Arthur, is involved in schemes which will, I am sure, lead to his destruction. He is going this very evening to a place whence he will not come back without great guilt upon his head, and great danger hanging over him; perhaps he may never come back at all; but be sure that if he do go, peace and security are banished from him for ever. Persuade him not to go, Eda. That is the only thing which can save him." She spoke with eager interest, and it was impossible, from her look, her tone, her whole manner, to doubt for one moment that she was fully impressed with the truth of what she said. Nor was Eda without her anxiety; all that she had seen the night before, all that she had remarked of her uncle's behaviour for several days, not only showed her that there was foundation for Helen Clive's assertion, but directed her suspicions aright; and though she paused, it was not in any doubt, but rather to consider how, without deceit, she could obtain further information from one who was not disposed to give it. "I cannot persuade him, Helen," she said, at length, in a sad tone, "without much more intelligence than you have given: he would only laugh at me. Nay, perhaps with all that you could give, such would be the same result. Men are often sadly obstinate, and ridicule the prophetic fears of woman, who sees the events in which they are called to mingle, but from which she is excluded, not unfrequently more justly than themselves, because she is but a spectator. You have neither told me the place to which he is going, nor the hour, nor the object, no, nor the inducement. Inducement?" she continued, in a thoughtful tone, as if speaking to herself; "what can be a sufficient inducement for my uncle, with everything to lose and nothing to gain by such commotions, to take part in any of these rash schemes?" "I see that you have yourself had fears," answered Helen, "and that those fears have not led you far from the truth. Then as to the inducement, Eda----" "Oh! yes, speak of that," replied Miss Brandon; "if I knew what it was, perhaps I might remove it." "Perhaps so," said Helen, thoughtfully, and then paused for an instant to consider. "I think you can, Eda," she continued. "If I know looks, and can understand tones, you certainly will be able. But there are several inducements, as I suppose there are in all things. There is the vanity, I believe, of adhering steadily to opinions once professed, how much soever the man, the circumstances, or the times may be changed; but that would have been nothing, had they not led him on from act to act, and whenever he wavered, whenever he thought of how much he risked upon an almost hopeless undertaking, still forced him forward by fears." "By fears!" exclaimed Eda. "Of what? Of whom? Who has Sir Arthur Adelon to fear? What can he apprehend?"