treet, and after a moment's waiting the Senora had run out, and
seeing the revolver picked it up. Yes, he said, she had worn a white
dress and undoubtedly it was she and not the Senorita Fenwick that the
woman who had looked out the window had seen. But she had not run down
the street, as this witness had said, who, like all women, only
remembered what she wished to believe, but back into the
gambling-house, and through there into an alley at the rear, from which
they entered a house the Senora was familiar with, and remained there
until the afternoon when the excitement had somewhat subsided. Then
they had gone quietly back to the Senora's house.

Yes, the pistol was the Senora's. Mr. Montgomery had bought it for her
a little while before. Yes, the Senora had made sure to save Mr.
Montgomery and but for the Senorita Fenwick it would have been. For
she had many friends, friends of power, he said. At that Mr. Dingley
grew paler, and started to speak, but then he seemed to change his
mind. Father looked at him, and I wondered then had the trouble been
that Mr. Dingley had been one of those friends of hers. When the
police came and we left the place, Mr. Dingley and father separated
without a word, and father took me home alone in the carriage.

EPILOGUE

TWO YEARS

All the experiences which I had gone through with, with such apparent
lack of feeling, seemed to take their revenge on me at once. For a
while I was very ill, delirious with fever; and when I was myself again
and the doctor would let me be talked to, the new trial was all over,
and Johnny Montgomery had been acquitted a week ago. It was Hallie,
all smiles, with her hands full of roses, who brought this news in to
me; and in a few days, she said, Jack Tracy had told her, Montgomery
was going to leave the city. This set me wondering whether that night
in the carriage and everything we had told each other then had been no
more than part of my fever visions.

At last I gathered courage enough to ask father if Johnny Montgomery
had inquired about me. Father looked annoyed, and said, "Yes," that he
had been sending every day, and that he had asked if he might see me
when I was able, but, father said, he had thought it best to refuse.
That made me so miserable I began to be ill again, and the doctor was
afraid I would have a relapse; so finally father gave his permission
for me to see Johnny.

It was strange and unreal to think that it was ac