led the woman's lip, but she did not
speak.

"And now let us come back to this Count of Amalfi, who is he? where is
he?"

"I have told you already I do not know."

"There was a time, madam, you would have required no second intimation
that it was your duty to find out."

"Ah, I remember those words but too well," cried she, bitterly. "Finding
out was my task for many a year."

"Well, madam, it was an exercise that might have put a fine edge on
your understanding, but, like some other advantages of your station, it
slipped by you without profit. I am generous, madam, and I forbear to
say more. Tell me of these people here all that you know of them, for
they are my more immediate interest at present."

"I will tell you everything, on the simple condition that you never
speak to me nor of me again. Promise me but this, Miles M'Caskey, and I
swear to you I will conceal nothing that I know of them."

"You make hard terms, madam," said he, with a mock courtesy. "It is no
small privation to be denied the pleasure of your agreeable presence,
but I comply."

"And this shall be our last meeting?" asked she, with a look of
imploring meaning.

"Alas, madam, if it must be!"

"Take care," cried she, suddenly; "you once by your mockery drove me
to--"

"Well, madam, your memory will perhaps record what followed. I shot
the friend who took up your cause. Do you chance to know of another who
would like to imitate his fortune?"

"Gracious Heaven!" cried she, in an agony, "has nothing the power to
change your cruel nature; or are you to be hard-hearted and merciless to
the end?"

"I am proud to say, madam, that Miles M'Caskey comes of a house whose
motto is 'Semper M'Caskey'."

A scornful curl of her lip seemed to show what respect she felt for the
heraldic allusion; but she recovered herself quickly, and said, "I can
stay no longer. It is the hour the Countess requires me; but I will
come back to-morrow, without you would let me buy off this meeting. Yes,
Miles, I am in earnest; this misery is too much for me. I have saved a
little sum, and I have it by me in gold. You must be more changed than
I can believe, or you will be in want of money. You shall have it all,
every ducat of it, if you only pledge me your word never to molest
me,--never to follow me,--never to recognize me again!"

"Madam," said he, severely, "this menial station you have descended to
must have blunted your sense of honor rudely, or you had never