“Silence, sir!” interrupted Esther, indignantly. “I am well aware to what you allude; and it is time to undeceive you on that head,” she added, in a proud tone: “indeed, there is no longer any necessity for concealment in that respect! In my turn I desire you to listen--and listen attentively. You entertain a belief so prejudicial to my character, that I cannot allow even such an one as _you_ to cherish it another minute. Know, then, that I have a sister so like myself in outward appearance----” “By Satan! it must be so,” ejaculated Old Death, a light breaking in upon his mind as in a single moment he took a rapid survey of all the circumstances which had originally led him to suppose that Esther was the thief of Mr. Gordon’s diamonds and the mistress of Tom Rain. “Yes--yes--I understand it all now!” he added, in a tone that appeared to imply vexation at his former blindness in respect to these matters. “With pain and sorrow am I thus compelled to allude to a sister who is so dear--so very dear to me,” resumed Esther: “but this explanation was necessary--not only for my own sake, but likewise to convince you of the folly and wickedness of endeavouring to induce _me_, by the promise of reward or bribe, to draw back the bolts of your prison-door. No--my visit to you is inspired by the earnest desire to move your soul to the contemplation of all the dreadful deeds which have marked your life----” “Then you will not set me free?” exclaimed Old Death, in a tone of subdued rage and latent ferocity. “Not now--not now,” repeated Esther. “But listen to me attentively!” “Go on,” growled the inmate of the dungeon, as he retreated from the door, and threw himself upon his bed again. “If you entertain the slightest hope that you will ever be allowed an opportunity to re-enter on a course of wickedness and crime, you are sadly mistaken,” continued Esther, speaking in a conciliatory and yet energetic tone. “Even were you liberated this moment, measures would be adopted to render you completely powerless for the future in respect to the perpetration of fresh enormities. Reflect, then, whether it will not be better for you to devote the remainder of your days--and in the ordinary course of nature they must necessarily be few--to the important duty of making your peace with heaven! Do not despair of pardon--oh! no--do not despair! You see that I, who am a mortal being, can forgive you for the wrongs you meditated against me,--and surely the mercy of heaven is greater than that of human creatures! Yes--repent ere it be too late; and God will not cast you off eternally. _His_ mercy is infinite: _His_ pardon is never asked in vain by the penitent sinner.” “Continue to speak to me thus,” cried Old Death, in a tone strangely subdued and wondrously meek, considering the ferocious excitement which so lately animated him.