n her white teeth.

"Oh, I think so, Chaldea. Your plotting has all been in vain."

"My plotting. What do you know of that?"

"A certain portion, my girl, and I'm going to know more when I see
Silver."

Chaldea frowned darkly. "I know nothing of him."

"I think you do, since you gave him a certain letter."

"Patchessa tu adove?" asked Chaldea scornfully; then, seeing that her
visitor did not understand her, explained: "Do you believe in that?"

"Yes," said Miss Greeby alertly. "You found the letter in Pine's tent
when he was camping here as Hearne, and passed it to Silver so that he
might ask money for it."

"It's a lie. I swear it's a lie. I ask no money. I told the tiny rye--"

"Silver, I presume," put in Miss Greeby carelessly.

"Aye: Silver is his name, and a good one for him as has no gold."

"He will get gold from Lady Agnes for the letter."

"No. Drodi--ah bah!" broke off Chaldea. "You don't understand Romanes. I
speak the Gorgio tongue to such as you. Listen! I found the letter which
lured my brother to his death. The rani wrote that letter, and I gave it
to the tiny rye, saying: 'Tell her if she gives up the big rye free she
shall go; if not take the letter to those who deal in the law.'"

"The police, I suppose you mean," said Miss Greeby coolly. "A very
pretty scheme, my good girl. But it won't do, you know. Lady Agnes never
wrote that letter, and had nothing to do with the death of her husband."

"She set a trap for him," cried Chaldea fiercely, "and Hearne walked
into it like a rabbit into a snare. The big rye waited outside and
shot--"

"That's a lie," interrupted Miss Greeby just as fiercely, and determined
to defend her friend. "He would not do such a thing."

"Ha! but I can prove it, and will when the time is ripe. He becomes my
rom does the big rye, or round his neck goes the rope; and she dances
long-side, I swear."

"What a bloodthirsty idea, you savage devil! And how do you propose to
prove that Mr. Lambert shot the man?"

"Aha," sneered Chaldea contemptuously, "you take me for a fool,
saying more than I can do. But know this, my precious angel"--she
fumbled in her pocket and brought out a more or less formless piece
of lead--"what's this, may I ask? The bullet which passed through
Hearne's heart, and buried itself in a tree-trunk."

Miss Greeby made a snatch at the article, but Chaldea was too quick for
her and slipped it again into her pocket. "You can't prove that it is
the