Her companion laughed hoarsely. 'He said so. Lamont was always clever with his tongue. But he can't love, girl. He hasn't got the heart for it.'
She looked at him with sore, tearful eyes. 'You know him, then?'
He stared in surprise. 'Well, I should say so! You know I've been hanging round here for the chance of fixing a certain man. I reckon you can guess his name now.'
'I shall hate you,' cried this strange girl; 'hate you, if you speak so.'
'There's no reaching? the bottom of a woman's heart,' he said carelessly. 'You must do what you like.'
'Oh, this is terrible, terrible,' cried Menotah, frantically. 'I have been saving you all this time from death, that you might murder the man I loved more than my life. But you have not yet succeeded, and now I know. How can I think wrong of him? He loves me; he told me so. He always said so.'
'That's a tale all girls will believe easily enough. But he's betrayed wiser folks than young women before this night.'
She had stopped weeping, and now looked at him with cold, fierce eyes. 'If I had let you die, he would have been safe.'
'The country is his enemy,' he said significantly, 'but I have his secret. He might have laughed all right if I'd snuffed out.'
In the same hard voice she continued, 'If I could kill you now, that secret would die with your life. Then he might be safe.'