"Innocent—ah, yes, indeed—of any motive, any intent, of any knowledge at the moment of what she was doing. As innocent as any angel of God. Do you think I do not know the heart, the life, of my sister? It was madness, or the possession of a demon. It was madness that came suddenly, like a fit or stroke. That is why I want to know what I ought to do. It may come back; any excitement, any association with the former attack, might bring it back. Oh, consider her case, and tell me what I ought to do. When you first came I was terrified. You did not see how much roused she was—she is so shy and quiet—but I saw a new light in her eyes. Your name is mixed up with the thought of our father in a very sad way. I was frightened then, but mercifully nothing happened. Then about the letters—ah, she was vexed about that, and I was so frightened lest she should be ill again. Then, when the colored boy came, I dared not let her be alone with him. He brought all the details of that dreadful time back to us and—ah, I thought, living as we do and keeping him from her, I had taken every precaution, but—on the morning after that poor woman was killed, I found, oh, Mr. Durgan, I found her handkerchief in the wood where she never goes. I found it because the dogs were scenting something and I followed, and the place was in a direct line from where poor Eve——" she stopped, shuddering.

"You did not tell Alden this?"

"Oh, no. How could I? And now I hardly believe—at least, I don't think she could have been out that night. She has been so calm since. I am sure she cannot have gone out; but I don't know—I don't know what I ought to believe or do."

The miserable recital of her fears and perplexities came to an end only when her voice failed her. Durgan had been obliged to listen attentively to gather her full purport. He knew certainly that Miss Claxton had been out alone that night, that the tree which she had climbed was, in fact, in a line between Eve's beautiful deathbed and her own back door. Nor did anyone know at what hour Eve died. His own assumption that Miss Claxton had gone out only as far as the tree to leave money for 'Dolphus had only the slightest foundation, and the mulatto's movements certainly did not confirm it.

While he reviewed all this with some reasonable horror, he found that his inward belief of the propriety of all Miss Claxton's actions was not shaken. His faith was obstinate, and facts had to be made to fit into it.

"Let us take this terrible secret of yours, and spread it out to the light quite calmly. You believe your sister did this first dreadful thing in a fit of sudden madness, from which she seems to have recovered immediately, as no one else thought her mad. Did you believe this at the time of the trial?"

"I did not know what to think then."

"After that, while you were abroad together, were you always in terror like this?"

"Oh, no. It was when we were coming home that my sister had an illness. It was then that she told me of her confession and where to find it if it was ever needed. Then, knowing what must have been the matter, and that it might come again, I was determined to find a lonely house where I thought I should be the only one in danger. I thought I could take that risk, as I only risked myself. When we found this house I felt sure we were safe from intrusion and excitement."

"After you heard of this confession you decided that she was subject to homicidal mania. When I intruded on your privacy you feared for my life in your house. You have feared for your own life whenever any cause of excitement came up, and thought everyone near her was in danger. You think now that such an attack may have been the cause of Eve's death."