"My name is Nance Jimboy, but I was born a Lovel. My son was a musician, and, tired of gipsy life, he went among the Gentiles, with whom he became famous. He married a Gorgio woman against my wish, and cut himself off from the gentle Romany. His rani died in giving birth to a son--Lucas Lovel--for his father took my maiden name when he turned to the Gentiles. Then my son perished, and the boy was brought up by a maiden aunt. I knew all about his life, and watched his progress, as he was my only grandson. He became a painter, and wandered abroad for many years. When he returned he came down to Barnstead, and fell in love with the beautiful girl who was to marry Squire Herne. I say she was beautiful, but she had a bad heart, and would have ruined my grandson. For Squire Herne I cared nothing, but I thought a great deal of Lucas: bone of my bone he is, and flesh of my flesh. I heard of his return, of his living in Barnstead, and of his love for that wicked witch. I came to watch over him; and at first I tried to part him from Miss Lester by writing to Squire Herne of her stolen meetings with my grandson. I thought that in his rage he might kill her, and so she would be removed from the path of Lucas." "The wicked woman!" cried Chaskin, aghast at this cool and cynical statement. "It is true, it is true!" groaned Herne, remorsefully. "I would have killed her on that night, but that the Lord stayed my hand. That gipsy knew me better than I did myself." "Did you know that she wrote the letters?" asked Paul. "I did; they were not signed, but for certain reasons, which I need not explain, I fancied that Mrs. Jimboy was my correspondent. I taxed her with the writing of them, and she admitted the fact. But I daresay she tells all this in her confession." "No," replied Paul, shaking his head. "However, she tells a good deal. Go on, Drek." "My object in getting rid of Miss Lester," said Drek, reading from the document, "was to let Lucas make a good marriage. I knew that he was loved by Miss Clyde, of Clyde's Farm, a rich lady who was devoted to him. Lucas is not clever enough to make money for himself, and as he had very little I wanted him to place himself beyond the reach of poverty by wedding with Miss Clyde. I urged him to do so; but, not knowing that I was his grandmother, he refused to speak with me on the subject. He continued to meet Miss Lester, until, by pretending to read her hand, I gave her a friendly warning of what she might expect if she continued her evil ways with Lucas." "That was the prophecy on the day before the murder," said Paul grimly. "I knew all Mother Jimboy's palmistry was humbug."