“‘A prisoner!’ Mademoiselle makes use of hard words,” the man returned with a dissenting gesture. “She is simply my patient—my guest, to be kindly and faithfully cared for until madam returns from the South.” “By the South you doubtless mean Italy?” “_Oui_, mademoiselle.” Salome was in despair, for she knew that the Rochesters and Winthrops were going to Rome for the winter as soon as madam and Evelyn should return from the baths where they had gone to recuperate, before her illness, and thus she would be obliged to remain for months an inmate of a mad-house. What would Harriet think had become of her? She would be nearly crazy over her unaccountable disappearance. What would the mother and sisters at the convent think? Perhaps—and she was appalled by the thought—Mrs. Rochester intended to keep her there indefinitely—forever! She had reason enough to be afraid of her, and so had perhaps taken this way of ridding herself permanently of so dangerous a foe. The thought made her desperate, and she arose and resolutely confronted her companion. “Monsieur Arnot,” she said with stern dignity, “I assure you, that woman is not my mother—she is no kin to me; she is only my bitter enemy, while she has wronged me as few women would dare to wrong another. She fears me, for I hold a secret regarding her, that if exposed, would be her ruin, and so she has plotted this additional wrong against me, to secure herself. I know, and you know, that I have no disease, either of the body or brain; I am as sane as you are, and you are committing a heartless crime by detaining me here. I command you to set me at liberty.” The man regarded her with something of wonder as she ceased speaking. Her tone and manner convinced him that she was speaking the truth, and he was, for the moment, uneasy lest he should get himself into trouble by lending himself to the plot of a scheming woman. He knew that the penalty was very severe for such an offence; but Dr. Arnot was exceedingly avaricious. Madame Rochester had already paid him a handsome sum in advance—besides, he already anticipated the monthly payments which she had promised to send him regularly, and he had not the strength to resist this important addition to his income. So he only smiled soothingly upon poor Salome and her authoritative demand to be released, and, adopting a conciliatory tone, remarked: “Ah, poor child! poor child! pray do not get excited—all will be well by and by. Do not wrong madam, who will doubtless come herself to release mademoiselle upon her return.” “She will not,” Salome retorted in deep distress, the conviction growing stronger upon her. “I tell you she fears me, and I believe she intends to keep me here indefinitely.” She made a grave mistake, however, in asserting this, for Dr. Arnot’s eyes began to gleam greedily; if she was to be a permanent patient, so much the better for his pockets.