"Do you remember the time I saw you in this guise before?" he asked, in a low voice.
A convulsion seized the girl's countenance. She looked as if she would willingly have killed him, had she a weapon in her hand. But she could not speak at first.
"It was you who sought me then," said the negro. "And because I bade you go back to your chamber, you never forgave me. Have you forgotten?"
Gasping for breath, like one severely wounded, Millicent roused herself.
"Will you go," she demanded, hotly, "or shall I summon help?"
"Neither," replied Hannibal. "If you inform any person that I am here, I will tell the story I hinted at just now. Besides, I would only have to wait until your father came down, when he would order them to release me, and say I came here by his request."
Millicent chafed horribly at his coolness.
"Came here by my father's request!" she echoed. "In the middle of the night! A likely story. Do you think any one would believe it?"
"I do not think they would. It would not even be true. But he would say it was, if I told him to, and that would answer. Don't you know by this time that I have Wilton Fern in a vise?"
Yes, she did know it. Everything had pointed in that direction. Millicent could not dispute the insinuation.