Hilda stopped, and looked defiantly at them.
"Young woman," said Obed Chute, in calm, measured tones, "you are very aggravating. It is well that you have generous people to deal with. I don't know but that I ought to take you now and hand you over to the police, to be lodged in the same cell with your friend Gualtier; but--"
"Gualtier!" groaned Hilda. "What?"
"Yes, Gualtier. I caught him yesterday, and handed him over to the police."
Hilda looked around wildly, and with a deeper despair in her heart.
"You," continued Obed, "are much worse than he. In this business he was only your tool. But you're a woman, and are, therefore, sacred. You are safe. It would be better, however, and much more becoming in you, to refrain from that aggravating way of speaking which you have just used. But there is one question which I wish to ask, and then our interview will terminate:
"You say you believe yourself to be the elder daughter of General Pomeroy?"
"Yes."
"Do you know your mother's maiden name?"
"Yes. Hilda Krieff."