stinct prompted her to turn and flee. If this man had caused her to
be decoyed to this house it could be for no good purpose. But there
was no way of egress. The front door was closed and locked. Not a
human soul was within call. She was alone in an empty house with the
one man she distrusted and feared more than any one else in the world.

Making an effort to conceal her alarm, she turned and faced him boldly:

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

He smiled--a horrid, cynical smile she knew only too well.

"Has not a man the right to be in his own home?"

She started back in surprise.

"This your home?" she exclaimed, glancing around at the scanty and
shabby furnishings.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh, don't judge by appearances. I'm really very comfortable here.
It's away from the world. I like to work undisturbed." Significantly,
he added: "Then, you see, it is all my own. I am quite at home here in
my own house. No one can put me out--not even you----"

She raised her hand deprecatingly.

"Please don't remind me of that. I have forgotten it long ago."

His eyes flashed dangerously as he made a step near and exclaimed:

"You have, but I have not. I have not forgotten that you put me out of
your house ignominiously as one turns out a servant. I have neither
forgotten nor forgiven. That is why you are here to-day."

She looked at him in utter astonishment.

"What do you mean?"

He bowed and, with mock courtesy, waved her to a seat.

"I will tell you. Did you receive a letter to-day?"

"Yes--I did."

"You came here in answer to that letter."

"Yes--I did."

"Do you know who wrote that letter?"

"No--not the least."

"It was I--I wrote the letter."

With a stifled cry of mingled fright and amazement, Helen jumped up
from the chair.

"You wrote the letter?" she exclaimed, incredulously.

He nodded.

"Yes--I wrote the letter."

Her eyes opened wide with terror, her hands clasped together nervously,
she exclaimed:

"Then you are----"

He bowed.

"Exactly. I am the kidnapper of your child----"

Speechless, she stared at him, her large black eyes opened wide with
terror. Looking wildly about her as if seeking her little daughter,
she gasped:

"Dorothy? Dorothy here? Where is she?"

"She is safe," he replied calmly.

"Where is she, where is she? Take me to her!" she cried, distractedly,
going up to him and clasping her hands in humble supplication.

He sho