“Yes,” cried Sir Lionel, with an oath. “Every one of you--every one. Every one without a single exception. Oh, you needn't think that I'm afraid. I've thought it all over. You're all under my power. Yes--ha, ha, ha! that's it. I've said it, and I say what I mean. You thought that I was under your power. Your power! Ha, ha, ha! That's good. Why, you're all under mine--every one of you.” Sir Lionel spoke wildly and vehemently, in that tone of feverish excitement which marks a madman. It may have been the influence of his “keeper,” or it may have been the dawnings of actual insanity. As for Lady Dudleigh, she did not lose one particle of her cold-bloodedness. She simply said, in the same tone, “How?” “How? Ha, ha! Do you think I'm going to tell _you_? That's _my_ secret. But stop. Yes; I don't care. I'd just as soon tell as not. You can't escape, not one of you, unless you all fly at once to the Continent, or to America, or, better yet, back to Botany Bay. There you'll be safe. Fly! fly! fly! or else,” he suddenly added, in a gloomy tone, “you'll all die on the gallows! every one of you, on the gallows! Ha, ha, ha! swinging on the gallows! the beautiful gallows!” Lady Dudleigh disregarded the wildness of his tone, or perhaps she chose to take advantage of it, thinking that in his excitement he might disclose his thoughts the more unguardedly. “You can do nothing,” she said. “Can't I, though?” retorted Sir Lionel. “You wait. First, there's Dalton.” “What can you do with him?” “Arrest him,” said Sir Lionel. “What is he? An outlaw! An escaped convict! He lives under an assumed name. He must go back to Botany Bay--that is, if he isn't hanged. And then there's that pale-faced devil of a daughter with her terrible eyes.” He paused. “What can you do to her?” “Her! Arrest her too,” cried Sir Lionel. “She murdered my boy--my son--my Leon. She must be hanged. You shall not save her by this trick. No! she must be hanged, like her cursed father.” A shudder passed through Lady Dudleigh. Sir Lionel did not notice it. He was too much taken up with his own vengeful thoughts. “Yes,” said he, “and there's that scoundrel Reginald.” “Reginald!” cried Lady Dudleigh, in a stern voice. “Why do you mention him?” “Oh, he's one of the same gang,” cried Sir Lionel. “He's playing their game. He is siding against his father, as he always did, and with his brother's murderers. He shall not escape. I will avenge Leon's death on all of you; and as for him, he shall suffer!” It was with a strong effort that Lady Dudleigh restrained herself. But she succeeded in doing so, and said, simply, as before, “How?” “Arrest him!” cried Sir Lionel. “Arrest him too. He is guilty of perjury; and if he doesn't hang for it, he'll go back again to Botany Bay with that scoundrel with whom he sides against me--his own father--and against his brother.” “Are there any more?” asked Lady Dudleigh, as Sir Lionel ended. “More! Yes,” he said. “Who?”