For a moment she gazed thus upon him, then silently arose. She must have been beautiful once; but her cheeks were hollow and livid, the large and brilliant black eyes sunken in their sockets. The mouth was distorted with the play of evil passion and suffering; while her long raven hair, streaked with silver, hung in tangled masses from beneath her soiled and misshapen hat. “What do you want here?” again demanded the squire. “I do not allow beggars about my premises.” “I am no beggar,” she replied, lifting her head with a sudden, haughty grace, and her voice possessed a certain musical cadence, despite its sharpness. What was there in her movement and tone that made the proud squire start and gaze so fixedly at her, while a white fear settled over his face? “Who are you then?” he asked, quickly. “Ha, ha!” laughed the woman. “Your memory does not serve you quite as well as mine does me, most worthy squire. I presume my acquaintance would not be considered much of an honor. Nevertheless you and I are old friends!” “Have done with your croaking, and tell me what you want here,” interrupted Squire Moulton, impatiently, yet with a touch of uneasiness in his voice. “What do I want? I will tell you soon enough what I wish!” she replied, flashing her eyes angrily at him. “You had a sister once?” “Yes, to my sorrow. What of her?” “Where is she now?” asked his visitor, with a sinister smile. “Dead, and gone to perdition, for all I know or care,” returned he, brutally. “Dead, is she,” repeated the woman, with the same look. “Yes, dead, I say! Confound you, what do you mean by all this quizzing, you fool?” The squire was becoming enraged, and could not calmly bear the steadfast, penetrating gaze of the persistent woman before him. “How do you know she is dead?” was the quiet question. “How do I know, you vile hag? She died at Naples, thirteen years ago. I was with her only a few hours before her death. The next time I went to see her they told me she was dead and buried.” “Ah! but what became of the child she left for you to take charge of?” She bent forward and gazed eagerly into his face, as if she would read his very soul. “Curse you, it’s none of your business! I’m sure I don’t know why I stand here parleying with such as you.” A bright flush spread itself over the woman’s pale face at this taunt, while her lips quivered with suppressed rage.