"I will warn him; but, alas! it's you who should take warning. You know not your peril?" "We will drop that matter for the present. I have only one more word to say: You must know nothing about me, under any circumstances whatever; you must never seek to communicate with me, unless I first address you." "I do not understand." "It is not necessary for you to understand; you are a girl of ready wit; a general command to you is sufficient. I have good reasons for my request. I am amply able to take care of myself under all circumstances; my fear, as I told you, is for you. And now, to change the subject, have you any intimate friend, save your father?" "Not one." "Can I claim to be a friend of yours?" The girl answered promptly: "You have already proven yourself a friend." "You remember the words addressed to you by Sol Burton?" "Yes." "That fellow, I am satisfied, has no information for you." "I have so decided in my own mind." "Will you confide in me as a friend?" "I will!" came the ready reply. "I have reason to know that there is a mystery connected with your committal, years ago, to the care of Mrs. Pearce." "I know that myself." "I can solve that mystery if you permit me to do so." "I believe you can aid me; but if you go to Rigby's to-night you can never do service for me; these men will make good their threat!" "We will not talk about me now; we will talk about you, and I wish to ask you one question: Were you with Mrs. Pearce when she died." "I was." "Did she succeed in making any communication." "She did not." "Not even one word?" "She only succeeded in saying, 'Renie, I have something important to tell you;' then her tongue became paralyzed, and she never spoke again." "Upon no former occasion did she ever give you hint?" "Never." "She never told you of the circumstances under which you were confided to her care?" "Never." "And she never spoke of a mysterious box or any relics that might some day serve as identification tokens." "Never. She always gave me to understand that she was my real mother." "Well, now, Renie, I wish to ask you some very, important questions, and I desire that you will think and consider well before you make a reply." "I have a good memory; but, first, tell me what was the purport of the conversation between my father and the man Garcia?" "We will not speak of that now." "There were revelations made." "Yes." "And you will repeat them to me?" "Yes." "When?" "Some day." "Why not now?" "I will answer you frankly. I have determined, as I told you, to solve the mystery connected with your consignment to the care of Mrs. Pearce, and I do not wish to tell you anything that will start any suggestions in your mind, until I have collected and considered all the little memories you may have retained of the habits of your supposed mother." "Her habits were ordinary and commonplace enough. She was merely a good, hard-working fisherman's wife."