"When he married my sister, in the first burst of passion, I wrote that paper"--pointing to the table--"but it was merely an outcome of girlish anger. I wrote it blindly, and did not mean what I said; indeed, I had forgotten all about it till Mr. Monteith showed it to me just now. Why Leopold Verschoyle kept it I don't know, unless to laugh at my folly and petulance. Well, I went to England after he deceived me, and stayed with Sir Mark Trevor; but I must tell you that my sister had another lover, Matteo Vassalla." "But I thought he loved you!" broke in Ronald, impetuously. "Now," she replied quietly, "but seven years ago it was my sister, and he went nearly out of his mind when he found her married. He used to rave to me that he would kill Verschoyle, but, of course, this was merely a fit of madness, the same as came over me when I wrote that letter. He also left Malta, and travelled in the East, and before he went I gave him the stiletto for a keepsake. We did not see one another for many years, as I lived quietly in England. "As for the rest, you know all about my sister's unhappy life; how her husband separated from her and went with Elsie Macgregor; then she found out his infidelity and obtained the divorce. He went to Australia with Elsie Macgregor, whom, I heard, he had made his wife, and now----" "She is dead!" said Foster, slowly. "Unlucky woman!" replied Carmela, calmly; "but then everyone who had to do with Leopold Verschoyle was unlucky. When my sister obtained her divorce, she asked me to come and live with her in Valletta, and as I was alone in the world I agreed to do so. But we did not get on well together; she hated me, and always said that Leopold Verschoyle loved me best." "Did she threaten him in any way?" asked Foster, eagerly. "Not in any special way; she raved and stormed, but then she was always doing that; her molehills were mountains. I bore with her as long as I could, till Vassalla came home and wanted to marry me. My sister, however, fell in love with him, and longed for that which she had formerly rejected. I did not like my cousin, and told him so, but he would not be discouraged, and of course this only made matters worse. "When the 'Neptune' arrived, I had already taken my passage, and was much surprised when Vassalla told me he was leaving Malta also; it was too late to go in another boat, or I would certainly have done so. My sister had a quarrel with me on that day when you," to Monteith, "saw us on the Barraca, and I left her, and walked home to our lodgings. I never saw her again till we met on board before the boat left." "Then she was on board?" asked Ronald, quickly.