I stood there in silence in the soft fading light await her confession-- confession surely of one of the strangest truths that has ever been told by the lips of any woman. CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. THE VOICE IN THE STREET. At last she spoke. But in those moments of reflection her determination had apparently become more fixed than ever. Either she feared to confess lest she should imperil her father, or else she became seized with a sense of shame that would not allow her to condemn herself. "No," she said, in a firm voice, "I have already told you sufficient, Mr Leaf. My private affairs cannot in the least interest you." My heart sank within me, for I had hoped that she would reveal to me the truth. I was fighting in the dark an enemy whose true strength I could not gauge. The slightest ray of light would be of enormous advantage to me, yet she steadily withheld it, even though she lived in hourly danger, knowing not when, by force of circumstances, she might be driven to the last desperate step. She was a woman of strong character, to say the least, although so sweet, graceful and altogether charming. I was disappointed at her blank refusal, and she saw it. "If it would assist you to extricate Ella, I would tell you," she assured me quickly. "But it would not." "Any fact to the scoundrel's detriment is of interest to me," I declared. "But you have already said that you yourself are a witness against him," she remarked. "What more do you want? The evidence which you and your friend whom you say he robbed could give would be sufficient to send him to prison, would it not?" "I know. But I must prove more. Remember he has entrapped my Ella. She is struggling helplessly in the web which he has woven about her." "Much as I regret all the circumstances, Mr Leaf, I can see that it is against my own interests if I say anything further," was her calm reply. "I have already given you an outline of the strange combination of circumstances and the unscrupulousness of two villains which has resulted in my present terrible position of doubt in the present and uncertainty of the future. The story, if I related it, would sound too strange to you to be the truth. And yet it only illustrates the evil that men do, even in these prosaic modern days." "Then you intend to again leave me in ignorance, even though my love's happiness is at stake?" "My own life is also at stake." "And yet you refuse to allow me to assist you--you decline to tell me the truth by which I could confound this man who is your bitterest enemy!" "Because it is all hopeless," was her answer. "Had Nardini but spoken, I could have defied him. His refusal has sealed my doom," she added, in a voice of blank despair. "But your words are so mysterious I can't understand them!" I declared, filled with chagrin at her refusal to make any statement. She was in fear of me, that was evident. Why, I could not for the life of me discern.