"Yes, justice to the man you tried to murder—the man I saved from death!"
"Saved, yes—curse you forever for that deed!" snarled the prisoner, viciously.
Kathleen recoiled a little at her terrible aspect, and said, in wonder:
"Why did you do it? Why did you want him dead?"
"I hated him! I hate you!"
"I know, but you would soon have been free of him by the law. Why did you want to kill him? It was horrible. Life is so sweet when one is young; and Ralph is young—only twenty-five," said the young girl, almost piteously.
"Why do you come here to probe into my secrets?" Fedora cried, fiercely. "Listen, then: I wanted him dead before he secured the divorce, so that I might inherit his wealth. I, his loving widow! Ha! ha! Was it not a clever scheme?" She laughed wildly; and, coming closer to Kathleen, glared threateningly into her eyes as she hissed: "You foiled me—you—curse you, I repeat! Let me but escape, and I will murder you!"
A weaker heart than Kathleen's might have quailed before such threats; but she stood there trembling but courageous, an earnest purpose in her splendid eyes.
"These are idle words, and I did not come here to bandy words with you. I came to make a solemn appeal to you," she said meekly, almost beseechingly.
"Appeal to me?" asked the prisoner, with a scornful laugh; and then she waited out of curiosity for the other's answer.