The voice with which she answered was no longer agitated or excited. It was cool, firm, and penetrating--a tone which reminded him of her old domineering manner. "You are not asked to give up your work," said she. "It is done. You are dismissed." "Dismissed!" said Gualtier, with a sneer. "You ought to know that I am not one who can be dismissed." "I know that you can be, and that you are," said Hilda. "If you were capable of understanding me you would know this. But you, base and low-born hireling that you are, what can there be in common between one like you and one like me?" "One thing," said Gualtier. "_Crime_!" Hilda changed not a feature. "What care I for that? It is over. I have passed into another life. Your coarse and vulgar threats avail nothing. This moment ends all communication between us forever. You may do what you like. All your threats are useless. Finally, you must go away at once." "Go away?" "Yes--at once--and forever. These rooms shall never see you again. _I_ am here, and will stay here." "You?" "_I_." "You have no right here." "I have." "What right?" "The right of _love_," said Hilda. "I come to save him!" "You tried to kill him." "That is passed. I will save him now." "You are mad. You know that this is idle. You know that I am a determined and desperate man." "Pooh! What is the determination or the desperation of one like you? I know well what you think. Once you were able to move me by your threats. That is passed. My resolve and my despair have placed me beyond your reach forever. Go--go away. Begone! Take your threats with you, and do your worst." "You are mad--you are utterly mad," said Gualtier, confounded at the desperation of one whom he felt was so utterly in his power; one, too, who herself must have known this. "You have forgotten your past. Will you force me to remind you of it?" "I have forgotten nothing," said Hilda; "but I care nothing for it." "You must care for it. You will be forced to. Your future happens to depend on it." "My future happens to be equally indifferent to me," said Hilda. "I have given up all my plans and hopes. I am beyond your reach, at any rate. You are powerless against me now." Gualtier smiled. "You speak lightly," said he, "of the past and the future. You are excited. If you think calmly about your position, you will see that you are now more in my power than ever; and you will see, also, that I am willing to use that power. Do not drive me to extremes." "These are your old threats," said Hilda, with bitter contempt. "They are stale now." "Stale!" repeated Gualtier. "There are things which can never be stale, and in such things you and I have been partners. Must I remind you of them?" "It's not at all necessary. You had much better leave, and go back to England, or any where else." These words stung Gualtier.