lk about."

"I won't talk to you at all," said Sylvia, rising.

"Sit down and listen. You _shall_ hear me. I am not going to let my
mother suffer for a deed she never committed, nor am I going to let you
have the money."

"It is mine."

"It is not, and you shall not get it."

"Paul--Mr. Beecot will assert my rights."

"Will he indeed," said the other, with a glance at the clock; "we'll see
about that. There's no time to be lost. I have much to say--"

"Nothing that can interest me."

"Oh, yes. I think you will find our conversation very interesting. I am
going to be open with you, for what I tell you will never be told by you
to any living soul."

"If I see fit it shall," cried Sylvia in a rage; "how dare you dictate
to me."

"Because I am driven into a corner. I wish to save my mother--how it is
to be done I don't know. And I wish to stop you getting the five
thousand a year. I know how _that_ is to be done," ended Miss Krill,
with a cruel smile and a flash of her white, hungry-looking teeth; "you
rat of a girl--"

"Leave the room."

"When I please, not before. You listen to me. I'm going to tell you
about the murder--"

"Oh," said Sylvia, turning pale, "what do you mean?"

"Listen," said the other, with a taunting laugh, "you'll be white enough
before I've done with you. Do you see this," and she laid her finger on
her lips; "do you see this scar? Krill did that." Sylvia noticed that
she did not speak of Krill as her father this time; "he pinned my lips
together when I was a child with that opal serpent."

"I know," replied Sylvia, shuddering, "it was cruel. I heard about it
from the detective and--"

"I don't wish for your sympathy. I was a girl of fifteen when that was
done, and I will carry the scar to my grave. Child as I was then, I
vowed revenge--"

"On your father," said Sylvia, contemptuously.

"Krill is not my father," said Maud, changing front all at once; "he is
yours, but not mine. My father is Captain Jessop. I have known this for
years. Captain Jessop told me I was his daughter. My mother thought that
my father was drowned at sea, and so married Krill, who was a traveller
in jewellery. He and my mother rented 'The Red Pig' at Christchurch, and
for years they led an unhappy life."

"Oh," gasped Sylvia, "you confess. I'll tell Paul."

"You'll tell no one," retorted the other woman sharply. "Do you think I
would speak so openly in order that you might tell all the world with
your