"Then God help you, Philip," the woman solemnly says. "You will never reach the Senate! You will never live to marry another woman!"
"Do you threaten me, you she-devil?" snarls Hardin, alarmed at the settled, resolute face. "I have a little piece of news for you which will block your game, my lady. There is no proof of the legitimacy of the child, Isabel Valois. A claim has already been filed by a distant Mexican relative of the Peraltas. The suit will come up soon. If the girl is declared illegitimate, you can take her back to France, and keep her as a beggar. You are in my hands!" He chuckles softly.
"Philip Hardin, you are a liar and a monster. This is your conspiracy. Now, show yourself a thief, also." Natalie retorts. The words cut the proud man like a lash.
He seizes her jewelled wrist. He is beside himself.
"Beware," she hisses. "By the God who made me, I'll strike you dead."
He recoils.
She is once more the queen of the El Dorado. Her ready knife is flashing before his eyes. "You have a fearful reckoning to answer. You will meet your match yet at the game of Life!" she cries.
But, Natalie de Santos is stunned by his devilish plot to rob the despoiled orphan even of her name. He reads her face. "I will give you a day to think this over. I will come to-morrow." Hardin's voice rings with ill-concealed triumph.
"Not ten minutes will you give me. I tell you now I will crush you in your hour of victory, if I die to do it. Once more, will you marry me and give your child a name?" She rises and paces room, a beautiful fury.
"You have your answer," he coldly replies.