She hesitated for a moment—it seemed so ghastly, so unreal, so impossible—and then her voice came in a hoarse whisper:
"Yes, that is it."
"I will help you!" cried Jessica, in a voice filled with a desire for revenge so strong that it could not be subdued. "I will help you! I know a man down there, an old friend of the family. He will assist us. You think you have not a friend. I can see more clearly than you, because I—do not—suffer. You were right when you said that I believed in his guilt, and we will punish him—you and I—as man was never punished before. Meriaz will help us."
"How can I ever thank you!" cried Carlita, grasping the hand that was not withdrawn from her.
Jessica smiled enigmatically.
"I do not care for thanks. Only let me help you," she answered in the same tone, that somehow sent a chill to Carlita's heart.
Then she turned away to answer a knock at the door.
"The carriage is ready, Miss Chalmers," the servant announced, "and a telegram for Miss de Barryos."
She had the telegram in her hand and the door closed almost before the sentence had been completed.
Carlita flew across the room and seized it, her cheeks glowing more crimson than ever, then fading to ashen white.