At Peyton's hotel, the men commune. It is not strange that the ex-Confederate is comfortably settled opposite the Dauvray mansion! In an exchange of opinion with the able Josephine, it is agreed that one of the young men or the Colonel shall be always at hand.
Woods meditates a "coup de maetre." He intends, on his arrival, to remove the girl Louise where no malignity of Hardin can reach her, to some place where even Marie B‚rard will be powerless. He will force some one to show a hand. Then, God keep the villain who leaves his tree to fight in the open! It is war to the death. Woods directs Peyton to use his bankers and the police, telegraphing him at London. He has a fear they have been followed to Europe. The bankers understand that Peyton and the priest are Woods' ambassadors.
Marie B‚rard comes no more to the home of her charge. Her letters are sent by a commissionaire. Peyton reads in this a danger signal. The soldier is on the watch for treachery. His quiet habits are easily satisfied. He has his books, daily journals, and also French lessons from charming Louise.
It is sunny splendor at the house on the Champs Elys‚es, where Natalie de Santos moves in her charmed circle of luxury. While Peyton waits for the "Comstock Colonel," an anxious woman sits in her queenly boudoir.
Natalie's beauty is ravishing. The exquisite elegance of her manner is in keeping with the charms of the shining loveliness which makes her a cynosure in the "Bois."
Face to face with a dilemma, the fair "chƒtelaine" racks her brain for a new expedient. Her woman's wit is nonplussed.
Villa Rocca DEMANDS, URGES, PLEADS, SUES for marriage. Is it love? Of all her swains he is the only one who touches her heart. At his approach, her tell-tale pulse beats high. She dare not yet quit Hardin. There is a campaign before her. To force Hardin to marry her, even secretly, is the main attack. He is now old. Then, to establish her daughter as the heiress of Lagunitas. After Hardin's death, marriage with Villa Rocca. That is the goal. But how to restrain his lover-like ardor.
She smiles at her reflection in the glass. She knows "the fatal gift of beauty." It is another woman than the "queen of the gambling hell" who smiles back at her. The pearls on her neck rise and fall. Hardin! Ah, yes; his possible treachery! Would he dare to take the convent pupil away from her? Perhaps.
A devilish smile plays on her lips. She will let him steal his own child; the other, the REAL Lady of Lagunitas, he never shall know. Gods! If he should be aware of it. It must be prevented. Whom can she trust? No one.
Villa Rocca? Triumph shines in her eyes! She must definitely promise him marriage in these happy years, and give him the child as a gage. He can hide her in his Italian hills. He really has a bit of a castle under the olive-clad hills of Tuscany.