“Yes, Clark,” cried John. “Now’s your chance.” Clark hesitated for a moment, and then came toward me. I stood with my arms folded, and looked at him fixedly. I was not afraid. For I thought in that hour of who these men were, and what they were. My life was in their hands, but I held life cheap. I rose above the fear of the moment, and felt myself their superior. Clark came up to me and stopped. I did not move. “Curse her!” said he. “I’d as soon dance with a ghost. She looks like one, any how.” _He_ laughed boisterously. “He’s afraid. He’s getting superstitious!” he cried. “What do you think of that, Johnnie?” “Well,” drawled John, “it’s the first time I ever heard of Clark being afraid of any thing.” These words seemed to sting Clark to the quick. “Will you dance?” said he, in a hoarse voice. I made no answer. “Curse her! make her dance!” _he_ shouted, starting up from his chair. “Don’t let her bully you, you fool!” Clark stepped toward me and laid one heavy hand on mine, while he attempted to pass the other round my waist. At the horror of his polluting touch all my nature seemed transformed. I started back. There came something like a frenzy over me. I neither knew nor cared what I said. Yet I spoke slowly, and it was not like passion. All that I had read in that manuscript was in my heart, the very spirit of the murdered Despard seemed to inspire me. “Touch me not,” I said. “Trouble me not. I am near enough to Death already. And you,” I cried, stretching out my hand to him, “THUG! never again will I obey one command of yours. Kill me if you choose, and send me after Colonel Despard.” These words seemed to blast and wither them. Clark shrank back. _He_ gave a groan, and clutched the arm of his chair. John looked in fear from one to the other, and stammered with an oath: “She knows all! Mrs. Compton told her.” “Mrs. Compton never knew it, about the Thug,” said he, and then looked up fearfully at me. They all looked once more. Again that fear which I had seen in them before was shown upon their faces. I looked upon these wretches as though I had surveyed them from some lofty height. That one of them was my father was forgotten. I seemed to utter words which were inspired within me. “Colonel Despard has spoken to me from the dead, and told me all,” said I. “I am appointed to avenge him.” I turned and went out of the room. As I left I heard John’s voice: “If she’s the devil himself, as I believe she is,” he cried, “_she’s got to be took down!_” I reached my room. I lay awake all night long. A fever seemed raging in all my veins. Now with a throbbing head and trembling hands I write this. Will these be my last words? God grant it, and give me safe deliverance. Amen! amen! CHAPTER XXX SMITHERS & CO. The Brandon Bank, John Potts, President, had one day risen suddenly before the eyes of the astonished county and filled all men with curious speculations.