The two sat looking at each other in silence for a time. "Tell me the rest," said Eddring, at length.
"The old lawyer died in 1879 or 1880," she went on, "but by that time Mr. Decherd knew all that he cared to learn. As I said, he was less confidential with me after that. That was the time when he was infatuated with Delphine. Everything was to his liking. He was fond of intrigue, and the more intricate it was, the better for him. He was not afraid—when he had only women to be afraid of. With Delphine and me he did as he pleased, passing from one to the other. Delphine knew a part of the story, I do not know just how much. I never dared talk too much with Delphine, for fear I might learn too much, or she might learn too much. I was afraid of her, and I was more afraid of him. When Miss Lady grew up, then I got jealous of her—oh! I could not help it. I'm a woman, you know, and a woman likes to be loved by some one. I got to comparing Decherd with Colonel Blount; and then I—well, never mind. I need only say I was frightened, and I needed a friend, and I knew the Big House was the best home we were apt to have, and the safest place. It was a terrible situation down there, and only three of us knew. Of the three, Decherd was the only one who knew all the facts."
"I'll say for him," said Eddring, "that his boldness was startling enough. He was a dangerous man."
"Yes, he was dangerous. But when he got started in this he could not turn back."
"Exactly what Colonel Blount said to me one time," said Eddring. "He was on a trembling bog, and he had to keep on running."
"Did Colonel Blount say that? Does he know everything?"
"As much as I know, or presently he will do so; I shall tell him all of this in due time."
"Where is the girl? Where is Lady now?"
"At the Big House, and safe."
"And where is Henry Decherd?"