He continued gravely:
"Then, perhaps you can guess why I have brought you here?"
Glancing maliciously from the pale, grave face of Eliot to the agitated one of his wife, madame said, scoffingly:
"To congratulate you and your bride on your happiness, no doubt, monsieur!"
"No; nor to reproach you with your wickedness," Eliot answered, sternly, his handsome face pale and set, his splendid eyes full of scorn. "I brought you here, madame, to say that in return for my leniency in not denouncing you to the law for your attempt upon my life, I demand at your hands one simple act of justice."
"Justice!" she echoed, vaguely.
"Yes, to me," said Una, drawing nearer. "Oh, Madame Lorraine, the time is come at last when you must tell me who and what I am. You have denied to me even a name, but however poor and obscure my origin, I surely have a right to some name, and I can no longer bear Mrs. Van Zandt's sneers at the mystery that infolds me. Speak, madame, and dissipate the cloud that veils the past."
"Speak!" Eliot echoed, sternly.
Then there was a moment of terrible suspense and silence.