"Oh, Ralph, dear Ralph, how much I must love you to risk so much for your sake!"
She gained the threshold at last. With a hopeful glance upward at the feeble glimmering light in the window, she knocked upon the door. It was jerked rudely open on the instant, and Kathleen saw before her a frowsy-looking old woman with a short clay pipe in her mouth.
This repulsive old woman thrust out a hand and dragged the trembling girl into the mill.
"What made you so long? I've been expecting you more than an hour!" she exclaimed, in a tone of savage anger.
Not waiting for an answer, she dragged the girl rudely along with her into a small room, and, turning quickly, slipped the bolt into the lock.
Kathleen gave a startled glance around the room. No one was there but the old hag, who was gazing at her with malicious eyes, in whose tigerish gleam of hate there was something so strangely familiar that she shuddered with terror, and a name leaped to her lips:
"Fedora!"
"Yes, Fedora; but you have keen eyes to see through this disguise," cried the woman. "Do you remember, I told you I would murder you if I ever got out of prison? Well, I shall keep my vow!" She sprung savagely toward her, but at the cruel grasp of her foe Kathleen uttered a moan of horror and slipped limply to the floor like one already dead.
"Is she dead so easily? I hope not, for I want to torture her first!" hissed Fedora, spurning the prostrate body with her foot.
She tore open the door at a slight tap upon it, and stood face to face with Ivan Belmont.