“Beast! beast! it’s the truth, it’s the——” she stopped, and her hand went to her heart suddenly, “My drops, my drops,” she staggered to the door, avoiding her enemy even at the moment of pain. “Wait, wait,” she breathed hurriedly to Latimer, “weak heart—drops—a moment a——” she almost reeled out of the room, seeking medicine to recover her from the shock which Sorley’s presence had inflicted upon her. “Is her heart weak?” asked Alan, turning to the man. “Not that I ever heard of,” he retorted sharply, and wiping his face, “she was all right when at Belstone twenty years ago. Perhaps it is weak now. I wish it would break and she would fall dead.” “You mustn’t say such things, Mr. Sorley,” said Dick frowning. “But I shall. What would you say of a woman who ruined you?” “She’s not ruined you yet,” remarked Alan, soothingly; “if you are innocent you will be set free.” “Oh, I shall be set free all right, even if I have to drink poison to rid myself of my bonds,” said the old man, recklessly. “Oh, that woman, that woman, you don’t know of what she is capable. Wait till she returns and hear the lies she will tell. All is against me, and only she can prove that I did not take the peacock from her brother. But I am innocent; I swear before heaven that I am innocent.” “Hush! Don’t make a row,” said Dick, who did not wish the house to be disturbed, and for the next ten minutes both he and Alan were trying to reduce the excited man to a quieter frame of mind. Miss Grison was absent quite that time, if not a few moments longer, and when she returned her looks were much stronger and more composed. “Why did you bring that man here?” she demanded again, and took up a defiant position on the hearthrug. “I wish to ask you a question,” said Sorley feebly, for his wrath had almost worn him out, and he felt that he was at the mercy of his enemy. “_You_ ask me a question,” she echoed contemptuously, “the police wish to ask you one or two, you—you criminal.” “I—I—I am not a criminal,” panted the other, sitting down suddenly. “You are. Inspector Moon has been to see me. He related how Mr. Latimer—and I thank Mr. Latimer for doing so—gave him the letter you wrote to Baldwin which proves that you were with him on that night. I know also what the police know, that you have the peacock which you took from his body, you beast!” “It’s a lie! a lie, Louisa, and you know it. It was you who brought the peacock to The Monastery when you came down for the funeral.” “Ha! is that so?” she said tauntingly; “and how are you going to prove I did such a thing?” “You don’t deny it, Miss Grison?” asked Alan, with some sharpness. “Yes, I do. I deny it at once and with all truth. I stole the peacock to punish that brute who ruined us, and I gave it to Baldwin. He had it in his possession when he was murdered, and since he has it,” she pointed an accusing finger at Sorley, who winced and wilted, “he is guilty.”