“I divine your meaning,” she cried, seizing his hands. “You know he is dead, and do not like to tell me. And yet——”
“Yet what?”
“He cannot be dead, he is so young.”
The ferryman rose, and opened a small cabinet.
From this he took a book bound in black, and placed it on the table before him.
Now his face became stern, jets of fire seemed to dart from his deep-sunken piercing eyes.
Mrs. Grover began to tremble.
“In this book,” he muttered, in a hollow voice, “are recorded the vile deeds of a woman who is as nefarious as she is alluring.”
Mrs. Grover started to her feet.
“What is her name?” said she.