‘Ah!’ she said, bitterly, rejecting Vandeloup’s preferred hand, ’so you have come to see your work; well, look around at these bare walls; see how thin and ugly I have grown; think of the crime with which I am charged, and surely even Gaston Vandeloup will be satisfied.’

The young man sneered.

‘Still as good at acting as ever, I see,’ he said, mockingly; ‘cannot you even see a friend without going into these heroics?’

‘Why have you come here?’ she asked, drawing herself up to her full height.

‘Because I am your friend,’ he answered, coolly.

‘My friend!’ she echoed, scornfully, looking at him with contempt; ’you ruined my life a year ago, now you have endeavoured to fasten the guilt of murder on me, and yet you call yourself my friend; a good story, truly,’ with a bitter laugh.

‘I could not help giving the evidence I did,’ replied Gaston, coolly, shrugging his shoulders; ’if you are innocent, what I say will not matter.’

‘If I am innocent!’ she said, looking at him steadily; ’you villain, you know I am innocent!’

‘I know nothing of the sort.’

Then you believe I committed the crime?’

‘I do.’

Kitty sat helplessly down on the bed, and passed her hand across her eyes.

‘My God!’ she muttered, ‘I am going mad.’

‘Not at all unlikely,’ he replied, carelessly.

She looked vacantly round the cell, and caught sight of Pierre shrinking back into the shadow.

‘Why did you bring your accomplice with you?’ she said, looking at Gaston.

M. Vandeloup shrugged his shoulders.

‘Really, my dear Bebe,’ he said, lazily, ’I don’t know why you should call him my accomplice, as I have committed no crime.’

‘Have you not?’ she said, rising to her feet, and bending towards him, ‘think again.’

Vandeloup shook his head, with a smile.

‘No, I do not think I have,’ he answered, glancing keenly at her; ’I suppose you want me to be as black as yourself?’

‘You coward!’ she said, in a rage, turning on him, ’how dare you taunt me in this manner? it is not enough that you have ruined me, and imperilled my life, without jeering at me thus, you coward?’

‘Bah!’ retorted Vandeloup, cynically, brushing some dust off his coat, ’this is not the point; you insinuate that I committed a crime, perhaps you will tell me what kind of a crime?’

‘Murder,’ she replied, in a whisper.

‘Oh, indeed,’ sneered Gaston, coolly, though his lips twitched a little, ’the same style of crime as your own? and whose murder am I guilty of, pray?’

‘Randolph Villiers.’

Vandeloup shrugged his shoulders.

‘Who can prove it?’ he asked, contemptuously.

‘I can!’

‘You,’ with a sneer, ‘a murderess?’

‘Who can prove I am a murderess?’ she cried, wildly.

‘I can,’ he answered, with an ugly look; ’and I will if you don’t keep a quiet tongue.’