Hardin's letter was manly. In it, he pledged his honor to carry out the agreement, advising Natalie to select a friend to accompany her to California with the heiress, as soon as she could travel. His banker had orders to supply funds. "I suggest, in view of this untimely accident, you would sooner have your funds settled on you in Europe. It shall be as you wish. You may rely on me," so ran the closing lines. The parted strands of the hoisting cable cannot reveal whether it was cut or weakened, yet Hardin knows. It was his devilish masterpiece. Days of sadness drag down the self-reliant adventuress. Whom can she trust now? Dare she confide in PŠre Fran‡ois? A simple envelope addressed in a scrawling hand, and postmarked San Francisco, drives all sorrow from her heart. The tiger is loosened in her nature. She rages madly. A newspaper slip contains the following, in flaming prominence: "THE UNITED STATES SENATE. "The choice of the Legislature for U. S. Senator will undoubtedly fall upon that distinguished jurist Judge Hardin, who is now supported by the railroad kings and leading financiers of the coast. "It is rumored that Judge Hardin will, in the event of his election, contract a matrimonial alliance with one of our leaders of society. His bride will entertain extensively in the national capital." A paper bears pithy advice: "Come out and strike for your rights. You will find a friend to back you up. Don't delay." Natalie recognizes Joe Woods in this. He is the only man knowing half the secret. Tossing on her pillow, the Queen of the El Dorado suffers the tortures of the Inferno. Now is the time to strike Hardin. Before the great senatorial contest. Before this cruel marriage. She will boldly claim a secret marriage. The funds now in the Paris bank are safe. She can blast his career. If she does not take the heiress out, her chances vanish. And once there, what will not Hardin do? What is Woods' motive? Jealousy. Revenge. Hatred. Ah, the priest! She will unbosom herself to PŠre Fran‡ois. She will urge him to accompany her and the girl to San Franciso. He will be a "background." And his unrivalled calmness and wisdom. PŠre Fran‡ois only knows her as the "‚l‚gante" of the Champs Elys‚es. She feels that Woods has been wisely discreet. Summoning the ecclesiastic, Madame de Santos tells the story of her claims upon Hardin. The old Frenchman passes his rosary beads, with a clinking sound, as he listens to the half-truths told him. "And your child?" he queries. "I have placed her secretly where Hardin cannot reach her. She will be produced if needed." There is a peculiar smile in the priest's face. "Madame, I will accompany you on one condition." "Name it," cries the siren, "I will furnish money, and every comfort for you. It shall be my duty to reward you." The priest bows gravely.