They looked at each other, she and the faithful maid, and Lizette tried to smile, but it was a wretched failure. Her poor lips trembled with the effort to restrain a bursting sob, and Nita felt instinctively that she was keeping something back. "Lizette, have you written to my husband?" Nita asked faintly. "Yes, my dear lady." "Then he will soon come for us, will he not?" "I hope so." "Lizette, how evasively you speak. You are hiding something dreadful from me, is it not so?" "A mere trifle, my dearie, and you must be brave and bear it calmly when I tell you, for, of course, all will soon come right." "Go on, for Heaven's sweet sake, Lizette. I think I can bear anything better than this awful suspense." "Miss Nita, you know the gentleman that fought the duel with your husband, and they said was mortally wounded? It was on his yacht we came to Fortune's Bay. His men saved us." "And he is dead, poor fellow!" Nita murmured, in a tone of profound pity and awe. "No, but I wish he was," Lizette returned, with surprising vehemence. "Oh, my dearie, they thought at first he was killed, but, bless you, his wound was no more than a scratch hardly, only he fainted away so dead at first from the shock they thought he was gone. The worst is, that he lived at all, the wicked wretch!" "Oh, Lizette, how can you be so unkind? I pity Donald Kayne." "Pity Donald Kayne, Miss Nita--the worst enemy you have on earth unless it be that little cat, Azalea Courtney!" "Yes, he called himself my enemy, Lizette, and yet I pity him." "You're wasting your kind feelings, Miss Nita. Now where do you suppose you are this blessed moment?" "On an island in Fortune's Bay, you said, Lizette." "Yes, on the loneliest island in the bay, and shut up in a lonely old stone house far away from any but fishermen's huts, for nobody lives here only the roughest, poorest sort of people, and mighty few even of that sort!" "But what does it matter, Lizette, since my husband will come soon and take us away?" "Not while he thinks we are both drowned and dead." "But you have written to tell him we are rescued." "Yes, I have written, but I have not been able to bribe any one to post my letter yet. Oh, my poor little darling, don't you understand? We are prisoners!" "Prisoners!" gasped the girl, horrified. "Yes, Miss Nita, or perhaps I ought to say Mrs. Mountcastle. Would you like it better?" "Yes, for it seems to bring me nearer to my darling husband," cried Nita, blushing warmly. Then her lip quivered. "Oh, why does Donald Kayne hold us prisoners?" she cried. "That is very easy to answer, Mrs. Mountcastle. It is all about that emerald ring you are wearing. He says he will never let us go free from this house until you confess how you come to be wearing that serpent ring." Nita groaned, and looked down with loathing eyes at the baleful jewel that hung loosely on her wasted hand. "Lizette, how thin I have grown! I must have been ill some time."