"Very well, sir, I shall be under the necessity of seeking out your niece."
"My niece!" roared Jaspar, terror-stricken. "Did you not see her buried at Vicksburg?"
"It might have been she, but it is scarcely possible."
"Hell!" shouted Jaspar, unable to govern his fury. With long strides he paced the room, his teeth grating like a madman's, and his eyes bloodshot and glaring like those of a demon. His fears seemed to arm him with desperate fury.
"Where is the ring?—the ring!" said he, stopping in front of the overseer. "Didn't you give me her ring?"
"I gave you a ring," said Dalhousie, calmly.
"Was it not her ring? Did it not have her initial, and her father's hair in it?" and Jaspar flew to the secretary, where he had deposited the evidence of his niece's supposed death.
"There is no longer any need of continuing the deception—"
"Deception! Here is the ring, and here is the letter D. Doesn't it stand for Dumont?"
"Not at all. It stands for Delia, my wife's name, in this instance."