“It does not suit my purpose. Now I will give you a word of advice before I go. Make no more confidences for the future--they are dangerous for those who speak and for those who listen to them, and I will not have my acts questioned by you or others. For the paper you speak of, you may keep it now and it may prove useful hereafter, but for your friend I shall call him to a reckoning if I live. I think that hereafter you will keep my secret more closely, for it does not redound to the credit of the family that you should take the world into your confidence.” He opened the door and stood looking at her threateningly; then he went out, drawing it noiselessly after him. Though he had borne himself with a high hand, she could see that he had felt her words keenly, and that he was already fearful for his own safety. What course she should take she did not know, for she shrank from making his treachery public and from bringing punishment by any act of her own on the offender. It was clear that no entreaty nor expostulation of hers would have any weight with him; she knew his headlong and obstinate nature too well to hope that it might. She remained standing for a long time lost in thought, and then she crept to her own room, wondering whether, after all, Gervase Orme might not keep his word. They had not renewed their conversation since the day that she had placed the pass in his hands, but she felt certain that he had not relaxed in his vigilance. And then it struck her suddenly that by this act she might have imperilled his safety, for her brother had already threatened him, and she knew that in this, at least, he would keep his word, if he had the power or the opportunity to injure him. She regretted now that she had not taken the initiative earlier herself, but on this she was determined, that she and her brother should not remain under the same roof, even if she was compelled publicly to denounce his crime. But she was saved the pain, for she never saw her brother again. CHAPTER XVI. OF A DEED OF TREACHERY.