At his last words the girl sprang quickly to her feet, repeating in accents of supreme horror:
“A thief, a thief! Great Heaven, what can you mean?”
The footsteps of Mrs. Neville were heard returning along the hallway now, and Broughton whispered hurriedly:
“I mean just what I have said. You shall be accused of theft unless you do my bidding. The two hundred dollars you had in your possession when you entered this house have been taken from you. If you go back to Madam Ward without the money, do you think she will believe the improbable story you would be obliged to tell to account for its loss? Think over my offer. I shall return to you in a couple of hours, during which time you shall remain in this room alone. Ah, Clara, my dear,” as the widow appeared in the doorway, “I was just telling this young lady you would permit her to remain here until she recovers from the effects of her swoon,” and before Iris could open her lips to speak, Broughton had drawn Mrs. Neville with him out of the room, and locked the door on the outside, leaving Iris for the time a prisoner.
CHAPTER LVII.
HOMELESS AND ALONE.
It never occurred to Iris to attempt an escape from Mrs. Neville’s boudoir, until such time as Broughton saw fit to release her.
At ten o’clock that night Broughton reëntered the room.
“Well, have you concluded to accept my offer?” he asked sternly, and the sound of his voice had the effect of rousing the girl as nothing else could have done.
“I shall never accept your offer. Let me go, sir; I had rather be thrown into prison for a theft of which I am innocent than buy my freedom at such a price.”
“It will be a noble revenge, my dear, to doom the child of my betrayer to the same fate I suffered at her hands. Go, now, it is after ten o’clock, and Madam Ward will be terribly alarmed, you know.”