“Rene’s father!  Does—­does he still live?”

“No; but he did live for years after he disappeared, supporting himself by gambling on the lower river.  At one time he and Kirby were together.  After he died Kirby investigated his story in St. Louis and found that it was true.  Then he laid this plot to gain control of everything, including both of you girls—­a plot surely hatched in hell.”

“You know this to be true?  How?”

“Partly, as I have said, from Kirby’s own lips.  In addition Jack Rale added what he knew—­they are birds of a feather.”

“But it seems so impossible, so like fiction.  How could the man hope to succeed; to consummate such a crime?  Besides, why should he desire us—­Rene and I—­whom he had never seen?”

“It can only be explained when you know the man.  He had heard you described as a beautiful woman—­that was enough for his type.  He had convinced himself that Rene was a slave—­his slave, once he had successfully played his trick.  He knew you to be an heiress with a sum of money in your own right, which he could only hope to touch through marriage.  The man dreamed of owning Beaucaire, of possessing all it contained.  He was willing to risk everything to carry out his hell-born scheme, and to ruin everyone who interfered with him.  I am telling you all this, Eloise, because it is now time you should know.  Will you not tell me just how it all came to you?”

Her hands clung to me, as though she dare not let go; her eyes were filled with a mingling of wonderment and pain.

“Why, of course.  We thought it best not to go until after we could see the lawyer.  I could not believe my father had neglected to set those two free—­he—­he loved them both.  Delia and Rene had gone down to the Landing that night to see if he had returned.  We were both of us afraid to leave Rene alone—­she was so despondent, so unstrung.  It was dark and I was all alone in the house.  Then these men came.  They did not know me and I did not know them, but I was sure what they came for.  I was terribly frightened, without an idea what to do—­only I refused to talk.  All I could do was to pray that the others might be warned and not return.  They searched the house and then left this man Tim to guard me.  He told me he was a deputy sheriff from St. Louis, and—­and I encouraged him to explain all he knew about the case.  Then I made up my mind what to do—­I would pretend to be Rene, and let them carry me off instead of her.”

“But did you not realize the danger to yourself?”

“No, I suppose I didn’t; or rather I did not care.  All I thought about was how to save her.  These were law officers; they would take me to St. Louis before a court.  Then I could make myself known and would be set free.  They couldn’t do anything else, could they?  There was no law by which I could be held, but—­but, don’t you see?  The delay might give Rene time to escape.  That was not wrong, was it?”