Hardin tosses on a weary couch several nights before he can frame a reply. It is not a money question. In his proud position now, forming alliances daily with the new leaders of the State, he could not stoop to marry this woman. Never. To give the child a block sum of money would be only to give the mother more power. To settle an income on her might be a future stain on his name. Shall he buy off Natalie de Santos? Does she want money alone? If he did so, would not Villa Rocca marry her and he then have two blackmailers on his hands? To whom can he trust Isabel Valois if he breaks with Natalie? The girl is growing, and may ask leading questions. She must be kept away. In a few years she not only will be marriageable, but at eighteen her legal property must be turned over.

And to give up the Lagunitas quartz lead? Hardin's brow is gloomy. He uses days for a decision. The letter makes him very shaky in his mind. Is the "ex-Queen of the El Dorado" ready to strike a telling blow?

He remembers how tiger-like her rage when she drew her dagger over the hand of "French Charlie." She can strike at need, but what will be her weapon now?

He sets the devilish enginery of his brain at work. His answer to Natalie de Santos is brief but final:

"You may trust my honor. I shall provide a fund as soon as I can, to be invested as you direct, either in your name or the other. You can impart to the young person what you wish. In the meantime you should educate her as a lady. If you desire an additional allowance, write me. I have many burdens, and cannot act freely now. Trust me yet awhile."

Philip Hardin feels no twinge as he seals this letter. No voice from the grave can reach him. No proof exists in Natalie de Santos' hands to verify her story.

As for Lagunitas, and orphan Isabel, he pores over every paper left by the unsuspicious Padre Francisco. He smiles grimly. It was a missionary parish. Its records have been all turned over to him. He quietly destroys the whole mass of papers left at Lagunitas by the priest. As for the marriage papers of her parents and certificate of baptism of Isabel, he conceals them, ready for destruction at a moment's notice.

He will wait till the seven years elapse before filing legal proof of Maxime Valois' death.

Securing from the papers of the old mansion house, materials, old in appearance, he quietly writes up a bill of sale of the quartz lead known as the Lagunitas mine, to secure the forty thousand dollars advanced by him to Maxime Valois, dated back to 1861. Days of practice enable him to imitate the signature of Valois. He appends the manual witness of "Kaintuck" and "Padre Francisco." They are gone forever; one in the grave, one in a cloister.

This paper he sends quietly to record. It attracts no attention. "Kaintuck" is dead. Valois sleeps his last sleep. From a lonely cell in a distant French monastery, Padre Francisco will never hear of this.