“Haven’t got a red cent in the world; that’s why I came here!” answered Jane, indignantly. “Came a purpose for the gold you are rolling in, and mean to have it, too!” “Oh!” sighed Madame De Marke, “if I only had it here, you shouldn’t go away empty-handed.” “I don’t intend to go away empty-handed, nor hungry either, so long as there is a box full of gold and diamonds under your bed, my fine old lady!” cried Jane, preparing to creep under the miserable cot on which Madame De Marke lay. A low, cracked laugh broke from the sick woman, as she felt the rather stout person of Jane Kelly striving to force itself between the crossed supporters of her couch in search of the box; but she said nothing. When an oath bespoke the disappointment of her visitor, in not finding the object of her search, the old woman began to shiver with affright, for there was something fiendish in the sound. “Now,” said Jane Kelly, lifting herself fiercely from the floor, “you’ll have the goodness, just for the novelty of the thing, to tell me where that box, with the iron bars in which you keep my ear-rings and somebody else’s gold, is hid away. I want that box, and I mean to have that box. Do you understand, my precious old Jezebel?” “It’s in the bank. It’s been in the bank ever since that night!” “That’s a lie!” answered Jane, sternly. “On my soul, on my life!” “Bah! _your_ soul! _your_ life! Why all the life in your miserable body is mine, if I choose to go away as other people would, and let you starve it out. A little masterly inactivity, and where is your life or soul either? If I let one go, it’ll take something more than a gold crucifix to save the other, let me tell you.” “Don’t be wicked, don’t be sacrilegious,” pleaded the poor woman, thrusting her hand under the pillow, and holding fast to the crucifix she had concealed there. “Don’t talk about letting me starve more than I have! If you only knew how horrible it is to call, and call, and call, with nothing but your own voice to come back from the empty rooms; all night long, without a living soul within hearing, and all day long, with people moving about under your room, filling the building with life, and yet too far off for screams to reach them—oh! Miss Kelly, dear, dear Miss Kelly, don’t talk of leaving me to suffer all that over again!” “Then tell me where the box of gold is!” “I have told you. It is in the bank.” “Give me an order to take it out then!” “I can’t. My hand is so feeble I can’t write. Give me something to eat. Nurse me up a little, and I’ll do it for you in a minute. You know I would, Miss Jane!” Jane looked at the old creature with bitter scrutiny, and at last broke out,— “I don’t believe you!” “Oh! how cruel you are. If I take my oath of it, will you believe me then?” “Will you take it on the Bible?” “Yes, yes, on the Bible—your Protestant Bible, if that will satisfy you!”