"Then, thank God! the mystery is solved!" she said; and the Doctor burst forth eagerly:
"Is that true?"
Converse ignored both inquiries.
"Come nearer, Miss Fairchild," said he; and when, wondering, she had obeyed, he leaned forward and whispered one word into her ear.... "That's what our riddle has for its answer," he went on in a louder tone. "'Paquita—what do you spell?' is a riddle no longer."
Charlotte started back.
"Revenge—but that tells me nothing," she said, blankly. Converse smiled knowingly and shook his head.
"Perhaps you will not press me with questions which I haven't time to answer; it cannot be told in a word. It's a long story, and a remarkable one too; but we will hear it soon. It is not for me to tell it. I am waiting for Mr. Nettleton, Mr. Mountjoy, Clay, and Howard Lynden—though I don't believe that last gentleman will come now—and one or two others.... Ah, here are Clay and Mr. Nettleton now. You got my message, I see,"—this last to Clay.
"Yes," returned the young man; "but I'm dashed if I understand it. What's it all about, anyhow? Where have you been? When did you—"
"What?—where?—when?" Converse interrupted. "Pray make allowance for my age. Better yet, don't ask any questions at all. You will soon have enough to occupy your mind fully."
Mr. Nettleton merely spoke a word or two of greeting; otherwise he remained silent until Mr. Converse now abruptly addressed him.