-"

"Signor Ricordo. Yes."

"How do you know I shall not go to her, and tell her--everything?"

"You couldn't do it, my friend. Do you think I didn't think it all out
before I told you--what I have? How do I know you will not tell her?
Because I know you. Besides, do you think it matters? Do you think you
could baulk me? You do not know what is in my mind. You might tell her
all you know--but that would not hinder me from carrying out my plans.
No, no, I have not risen again to be frustrated a second time."

"Shall I tell you what I think?"

"I know. You think it would have been better if I had not risen, that
you would have preferred for me to have died in the Thames, to coming
back here to make her suffer as I have suffered. Very well, Signor
Winfield, but that does not alter me."

"You mean that you will fulfil the threat you made to Sprague and
Purvis?"

"I mean that I always try to pay my debts, my friend--always."

Again Winfield wiped the perspiration from his forehead. Even yet he
could scarcely realise what had taken place. It seemed to him that all
the foundations of his being were shaken.

"Give it up, Leicester."

"Give what up, my friend?"

"This mad scheme of yours."

"Mad! Nay, I've pondered over it for years. I've brooded over it in the
silent places. I've suffered as few men have suffered, that I might gain
the power that I wanted. No, my friend, I'll drag her as low as she
dragged me. I'll make her feel the sting of scorn and insult as she made
me feel it. She cared nothing for my disgrace, and do you think I'll
stay my hand?"

"But how?"

"Not even to you dare I tell that, my friend. There are bounds, even to
my trustfulness. But do not fear; it shall be sure, even if it is slow
in coming."

"But, Leicester, you used to be a man. Even although you were cynical,
and laughed at women's virtue, you were in your own way honourable, and
chivalrous."

"Honour! Chivalry! I bade them good-bye years ago. Work with a gang of
Arab ruffians for two years, as I have done, and where would your
honour and chivalry be?"

"But you did that of your own accord. She did not rob you of your
fortune, or your liberty, or your life."

"She robbed me of hope, of faith--of all that from your standpoint makes
life worth the living. Yes, I know, I was a slave to drink; I know.
Perhaps I inherited the taste for it. I was an unbeliever, I laughed at
standard morality--yes, all that. But I was still a man,