"I must speak more plainly still then, it appears. Silas Craig, thirteen years ago it was my good fortune to become acquainted with such a secret as this!"
The lawyer raised one of his trembling hands and wiped the perspiration from his icy forehead.
"Thirteen years," he muttered.
"Yes; I see you remember the date. I was a penniless girl of seventeen when I discovered this secret. I am now thirty; I have kept it long and patiently, have I not?"
He did not answer her.
"I have waited my time. I knew that this secret would bring me wealth and power whenever it was told. It concerns two men. Those two men are my slaves! At a word from me, they stand before the tribunals of this city branded with crime—loathed by their fellow citizens. A word from me, and they go from homes of luxury to the gloom of a prison, from which but a few steps will lead them to the gallows. Shall I tell you who those two men are, Silas Craig?"
"If you please."
He tried to speak with his accustomed insolent and mocking smile, but the white lips refused to do his will, and his words came in a hollow whisper.
"The first is Don Juan Moraquitos, the second is—you!"
The word seemed to whistle from her lips like the bullet from a pistol. The lawyer fell back in his chair as if he had received a blow.