"Don't you fret, Missie; he doan know nuffin' 'bout it now. An' if he
do he ain' gwine ter tell nobody."

That night, too, Egbert Mason, in dreams climbed a mountain height to
reach an eagle's nest. As he grasped the last wavering support a figure
glittering with stars dropped from the nest, suspended by a tattered
flag. Down, down it fell. Frantically he clutched at the frail colors.
They lengthened more, and more, till the starry, shimmering form was
swaying above a yawning abyss. Could he save her? Her--his young love
with the appealing eyes? With one mighty effort he nerved himself for
the desperate descent, when lo! from yon black depth appears the
vindictive face of Isabella Drury. Older, careworn, faded--but still
Isabella, and wearing the head of a Medusa.

* * * * *

"You shall never marry that girl, Egbert Mason! I have sworn it! If you
attempt it I will kill one or both of you!" and the face of the speaker
was like a mad woman. "Oh, I know all you would say," she went on,
striding about the rooms she had entered by strategy. "But she shall not
have you if I can not. Pshaw! What fools men are! Do you know who and
what she is? Where is your boasted pride, that shrank from a thing like
me! Let me tell you, then, you scornful, high mightiness! Eleanor Carleton
is----" and she hissed the hateful word in his ears.

"Woman! You lie!" shouted Egbert Mason, stung to frenzy by her taunts,
and sick unto death of her persecution. His was not a quiet nature, and
she had touched him in his sorest point. "You lie, and you know it! Out
of my sight! Tell all you will. I, too, can threaten. Your vile secret