"Yes," he said, as though thinking aloud, while his eyes shone with the brilliancy of a lighted coal,--"she was to make my fortune; she was to aid me, as I ascended that difficult path, which ambition treads in pursuit of fame. How smooth her words! I called her back from the dead,--she recovered from her relative a large portion of her property, sacrificing the rest, on condition that he concealed the fact of her existence from the world,--and I loved her, became the habitant of her mansion, the companion of her voluptuous hours. The she-devil! look to what she has brought me!" "I wonder if he wants to borrow money?" said the Madam, in a sort of stage-whisper. "No he does not," returned Conroy, with a scowl,--"He wants to do you a service, good lady. This morning about daybreak, as I was returning from the Club-Room, I came across a poor devil in the streets, who had been shockingly abused by ruffians,--" "Ah!" and the Madam sank back in her chair. "I could not let him die there, so I dragged him to the house of a clergyman, hard by, and laid him on the sofa. Then, assisted by the wife of the clergyman, a good sort of woman,--I dressed the wounds of the poor devil, and brought him to." "The name of the clergyman?" asked the Madam, biting her lips. "Barnet, or Barnhurst, or some such name." "Ah!" and the Madam changed color, "and you left this man there?" "He must have had a constitution of iron, to stand all those knocks! Do you know in a little while he was on his feet, explaining to the clergyman's lady, that he had come home with her husband, the night before, and had been dragged by unknown ruffians, from that very house,--" "The dev-i-l!" and Madam clutched the arms of her chair, as she tried to restrain the rage, which filled every atom of her bulky frame. "And now, he's down stairs at the door--" "Down stairs at the door!" she bounded from her chair. "He has a book under his arm, bound in red morocco," continued Dr. Conroy,--"and he desires to see you on particular business," and Conroy filled another glass, half full of brandy. * * * * * Once more to the death-room of Alice. Dermoyne, who was as white as a sheet, stood but one step from the threshold, Godiva was by the bed, Herman near the head of the bed: thus Godiva was between the avenger and his victim. Herman read his death in the eyes of Dermoyne, and looked to the window, as though he thought of raising the sashing, and dashing himself to pieces upon the pavement. Godiva also caught the eye of Dermoyne,--she saw, that weak as he was from his wounds, and the loss of blood, that he was nerved by his emotions, by his purpose, with superhuman strength,--she saw the pistol in his hand. And all the craft of her dark and depraved nature, came in a moment to her aid. She resolved to save Herman,--that is, if her craft could save him.