In less than a minute she reached the door of Old Death’s dungeon: and there she paused for nearly another minute, a sensation of loathing and horror preventing her from immediately announcing her presence to the terrible inmate of that cell. For the Black, in order to prepare her as fully and completely as possible for her philanthropic mission, had been compelled to reveal to her all the details of those dreadful designs which Benjamin Bones had cherished against herself and Lady Hatfield, and which had been made known through the medium of John Jeffreys. It was therefore natural that Esther de Medina should shrink from the bare idea of holding the slightest communication with a miscreant of so ferocious a character: but a short--a very short interval of reflection was soon sufficient to arm her with the courage necessary to support the ordeal. Drawing back the sliding-panel which covered the small aperture in the upper part of the massive door, she said in her soft, musical voice, “Prisoner, will you grant me your attention for a few minutes?” “Who are you?” demanded Old Death, starting as if from a lethargic state--a movement that was indicated by the sudden rustling of his garments and the creaking of the bed whereon he was placed. “I am Esther de Medina,” was the answer; and the beautiful Jewess allowed the lamp to cast its light upon her countenance, which was so close to the aperture that Old Death caught a momentary but perfect view of her features. She then placed the lamp upon the ground, thus again leaving the interior of the cell in complete darkness. “Yes--it is Miss Esther de Medina!” exclaimed Benjamin Bones, in a voice which he endeavoured to render as mild and conciliatory as possible. “Dear young lady, open the door, and let me out of this horrible place. I am sure you possess a good heart----” “A heart good enough to forgive you for the dreadful atrocity which you contemplated against me upwards of two months ago,” interrupted Esther, scarcely able to subdue a shuddering sensation which came over her. “Yes--I know every thing,” she continued: “you would have entrapped me into your power--you would have deprived me of the blessing of sight,--and yet I never, never injured you.” “But you say that you forgive me!” cried Old Death, impatiently. “Open the door, then, my sweet young lady--and I will find means to reward you well. Listen,” he exclaimed, approaching the trap, and speaking in a confidential kind of hollow, murmuring whisper,--“don’t be offended at what I am going to say--but I know that you are fond of jewellery--and it is natural for such a beautiful creature as you are----”