“How should they know all this?” interrupted Mershone, impatiently.  “And how do you happen to know it yourself, Diana?”

“Madame Cerise called me up at five o’clock, just after Louise’s uncle had been here for the second time, with a crew of officers.  Cerise is in an ugly mood.  She said a young girl had been brought to her a prisoner, and Mr. Mershone’s orders were to keep her safely until he came.  She is greatly provoked at our using her in this way, but promised to follow instructions if I accepted all responsibility.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I knew nothing of the affair, but had put the house and her services at your disposal.  I said I would accept no responsibility whatever for anything you might do.”

Mershone looked grave, and scowled.

“The old hag won’t betray us, will she?” he asked, uneasily.

“She cannot betray me, for I have done nothing.  Charlie,” she said, suddenly facing him, “I won’t be mixed in this horrid affair.  You must carry out your infamous plan in your own way.  I know nothing, sir, of what you have done; I know nothing of what you intend to do.  Do you understand me?”

He smiled rather grimly.

“I hardly expected, my fair cousin, that you would be frightened into retreat at this stage of the game, when the cards are all in our hands.  Do you suppose I decided to carry away Louise without fully considering what I was doing, and the immediate consequences of my act?  And wherein have I failed?  All has gone beautifully up to this minute.  Diana, your fears are absolutely foolish, and against your personal interests.  All that I am doing for myself benefits you doubly.  Just consider, if you will, what has been accomplished for our mutual benefit:  The girl has disappeared under suspicious circumstances; before she again rejoins her family and friends she will either be my wife or Arthur Weldon will prefer not to marry her.  That leaves him open to appreciate the charms of Diana Von Taer, does it not?  Already, my dear cousin, your wishes are accomplished.  My own task, I admit, is a harder one, because it is more delicate.”

The cold-blooded brutality of this argument caused even Diana to shudder.  She looked at the young man half fearfully as she asked: 

“What is your task?”

“Why, first to quiet Louise’s fears; then to turn her by specious arguments—­lies, if you will—­against Weldon; next to induce her to give me her hand in honest wedlock.  I shall tell her of my love, which is sincere; I shall argue—­threaten, if necessary; use every reasonable means to gain her consent.”

“You’ll never succeed!” cried Diana, with conviction.

“Then I’ll try other tactics,” said he blandly.

“If you do, you monster, I’ll expose you,” warned the girl.