'But there is no hope of that,' she said, moving a little, so as to look at me again, 'no hope for a poor stranger like me.
I shall not rest under the marble cross that I washed with my own hands, and made so white and pure for her sake.
Oh no! oh no!
God's mercy, not man's, will take me to her, where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest.'
She spoke those words quietly and sorrowfully, with a heavy, hopeless sigh, and then waited a little.
Her face was confused and troubled, she seemed to be thinking, or trying to think.
'What was it I said just now?' she asked after a while.
'When your mother is in my mind, everything else goes out of it.
What was I saying? what was I saying?'
I reminded the poor creature, as kindly and delicately as I could.
'Ah, yes, yes,' she said, still in a vacant, perplexed manner.
'You are helpless with your wicked husband.
Yes.
And I must do what I have come to do here—I must make it up to you for having been afraid to speak out at a better time.'
'What IS it you have to tell me?' I asked.
'The Secret that your cruel husband is afraid of,' she answered.
'I once threatened him with the Secret, and frightened him.
You shall threaten him with the Secret, and frighten him too.'
Her face darkened, and a hard, angry stare fixed itself in her eyes.
She began waving her hand at me in a vacant, unmeaning manner.
'My mother knows the Secret,' she said. 'My mother has wasted under the Secret half her lifetime.
One day, when I was grown up, she said something to ME.
And the next day your husband——'"
"Yes! yes! Go on.
What did she tell you about your husband?"
"She stopped again, Marian, at that point——"
"And said no more?"
"And listened eagerly.
'Hush!' she whispered, still waving her hand at me.
'Hush!'
She moved aside out of the doorway, moved slowly and stealthily, step by step, till I lost her past the edge of the boat-house."
"Surely you followed her?"
"Yes, my anxiety made me bold enough to rise and follow her.
Just as I reached the entrance, she appeared again suddenly, round the side of the boat-house.
'The Secret,' I whispered to her—'wait and tell me the Secret!'
She caught hold of my arm, and looked at me with wild frightened eyes.
'Not now,' she said, 'we are not alone—we are watched.
Come here to-morrow at this time—by yourself—mind—by yourself.'
She pushed me roughly into the boat-house again, and I saw her no more."
"Oh, Laura, Laura, another chance lost!
If I had only been near you she should not have escaped us.
On which side did you lose sight of her?"
"On the left side, where the ground sinks and the wood is thickest."
"Did you run out again? did you call after her?"
"How could I?
I was too terrified to move or speak."
"But when you DID move—when you came out?"
"I ran back here, to tell you what had happened."
"Did you see any one, or hear any one, in the plantation?"
"No, it seemed to be all still and quiet when I passed through it."