my father to give me up
without bringing the matter into court!" said Odalite, moaning, rather
than speaking the words.

"Even if he should--even if you should declare that you wished to be
reunited to that monster of wickedness, and even if I were to plead your
cause, I tell you that your father would not only see you unhappy, but he
would see you dead, before he would give you up to Angus Anglesea! He
would prosecute him, and settle his claim in that way. But, Odalite, I do
not believe that notice of his wife's death to be just what it purported
to be, or just what he represented it to be."

"What do you mean, mother, dear? How can you doubt, when you yourself saw
the printed slip, with name, place, day and date, family relations--all
complete? Ah, me! I wish there was room for doubt!"

"There is wide room for doubt. The date of the day and of the month is
given, but not the date of the year, in that slip; and I saw nothing but
the slip, not the paper it was cut from. How, then, do I know that his
first wife did not die on August twenty-fifth, two years ago, or ten years
ago, instead of in August of this year? It would be like him to produce an
old obituary notice for purposes of deception."

"Oh-h-h!" exclaimed Odalite, as the new light of hope dawned on her mind.

"I confess that I did not think of this view of the case when he first
showed me this notice, and, therefore, I was utterly bowed down by the
sight of it. But now, the more I reflect upon it, the more convinced I
feel that it was the notice of a death in an August of some previous year.
Why, now I think of it, the very paper was soft and dark, and the printing
was blurred, as by age and handling."

"Oh, mother, if I could but be certain that I am free!" sighed Odalite.

"Be certain of this--that you are free from him. He dare not return to
this country to annoy you. He may write you threatening letters. Put them
in the fire, and forget them."

"And--and--and--dear, true, noble Le!" sighed the girl.

"Of course, there must be no thought of an engagement between Leonidas and
yourself. He has given me his word of honor that there shall not be. You
may correspond as brother and sister; but his letters to you must, as a
mere matter of prudence, come under cover to me. In three years Le will
return to us. Much may happen in three years! But, in the meantime, oh, my
daughter! 'keep innocency!'"

CHAPTER XLV

NEW YEAR'S EVE

For three days a