Meg nodded her head, but did not raise her eyes from the floor.

"Do you pretend to know where she is?" asked Scott.

"No, I don't know just now."

"But you promised to tell me something of her past life."

"Yes."

"Are you ready to do so?"

"No," said Meg, decidedly.

"For what reason."

"I can't tell you that now."

"Can you tell me anything about Rene's father?" Scott asked.

"What do you know of her father?"

"I asked you a question."

Meg looked at Scott with fierce and searching eyes, but she quailed before the far more searching gaze of Scott.

"Who told you of my secrets?" Meg asked.

"That does not matter. I asked you to tell me what you of your own free will promised."

"Well," said Meg, knocking the ashes from her pipe, "I am in need of money, but I don't sell my wisdom for nothing."

"Meg," said Scott, in a commanding tone, "I never fail to do as I promise. I have told you that you would be well paid for whatever information you may possess, and I wish you to name a time when you will be ready to impart it to me as you have promised to do. Do you know anything of a certain portion of a mining country in California, owned by Rene's father?"

Meg started, and said:

"So you are after more news, are you?"

"Answer my question."

"Maybe you'll pay me as the rest did, as both of them did, but I can tell you I ain't to be fooled this time. Old Meg ain't wise, but she will get her money in advance."

"Very well, you need not be uneasy about the money; I want to know just when you will tell me what you have promised."

Old Meg sat with downcast eyes for a moment, then she said, bringing her cinched fist upon her knee, as though to make the statement stronger:

"When you give me five hundred dollars, and tell me where Rene is."

"Your information must be valuable."

"It is worth that to you."

"I will agree to it, providing you tell me what I wish to know. When will you come?"

"Before the snow flies."

Scott and Le Moyne left the house, and as the door closed after them Meg arose, and standing before Crisp, with lips fairly purple with rage, and eyes from which gleamed the fire of hatred, she said:

"Crisp, we may as well get our money and go. There's another one on our track, and there is no use to try to hide it any longer. They'll shut the whole of us up."

"They never will; we'll slip away first."

"But we must get the money first."

"Yes," said Crisp, sullenly, "but the devil seems to be to pay all around."

Meg and Crisp spent the remainder of the day in planning just how they would take their departure from the city, and so greatly was Meg's mind disturbed by the appearance of Le Moyne that she slept but little.

It was near the middle of October that Scott called one day to visit Miss Elsworth. He had called often, and each visit served to increase his respect and admiration. Not that he had any intention of falling in love with her, but there was a charm about her that made him desirous of her company. She was so beautiful, so simple in her attire, so easy and graceful in her manners, and above all so entertaining in her conversation that he forgot half his heartaches when in her society. June had said to him one day as he sat reading:

"Scott, why do you not marry Miss Elsworth?"

"How do you know that I could?" he asked, in true Yankee style.

"No man ever knows until he has inquired. Why do you not ask her?"

"Why, June," he said, looking up suddenly, "I would be almost afraid to marry any woman."

"I do not believe she could be a wicked woman if she were to try,"

said June.

"It does not seem so, but we cannot tell; but I have not the least idea that Miss Elsworth would marry me if I wished her to."

"I do not see how she could help it," said June, ardently.

"Every one does not admire me as you do, June," said Scott, with a smile.

"It is because they do not know you, then," June replied.

Miss Elsworth was seated in her cozy parlor when a visitor was announced.

"Ah, Mr. Wilmer," she said, with a smile that went straight to his heart, "I am glad to see you. I have a little business to transact that takes a lawyer's head to accomplish, though I am not partial to that cla.s.s of men."

"I am sorry," he said, as he took the chair she offered him. He had not intended to fall in love with her, and he had said to himself that he would not allow it; but, alas for his intentions. He really had never known what love was until now. He spoke to her of it, and her great dreamy eyes looked into his own with a look of pitiful sadness, as she said:

"I am sorry you have spoken of love to me, Mr. Wilmer. Perhaps if you consider it for a while you will decide that it is not best."

"My decision was made before I spoke to you, Miss Elsworth."

"I am very selfish," she said. "I want the first and only love, and that you cannot give me."