Part 21 (1/2)
”I know,” she responded in a voice scarcely above at whisper, the voice of a woman driven to desperation.
”But you must arm yourself against her,” he urged.
”Together we are strong enough to defeat any attack that she may make.”
”Tell me plainly,” she asked, dropping her voice until it was scarcely above a whisper, ”do you, yourself, fear her?”
”Yes. She is the only person who, besides ourselves, knows the truth,”
he responded in a low tone.
”And you would set a trap into which she will fall?” she went on, still in a whisper. ”Come, do not let us prevaricate longer. You intend to kill her?”
There was dead silence. At last her companion spoke.
”Well,” he answered, ”and if your surmise is correct?”
”Then, once and for all,” she said, raising her voice, ”I tell you I'll have no hand whatsoever in it?”
He was apparently taken aback by the suddenness of her decision.
”And you prefer to be left unprotected against the vengeance of La Gioia!” he said harshly.
”Yes, I do,” she said determinedly. ”And recollect that from to-night I refuse to be further a.s.sociated with these vile schemes of yours. You deceived me once; you shall never do so again!”
He laughed aloud.
”And you think you can break from me as easily as this. Your action to-night is foolish--suicidal. You will repent it.”
”I shall never repent. My hatred of you is too strong!”
”We shall see,” he laughed.
”Let me pa.s.s!” she cried, and leaving him, walked quickly down the path, and in a few moments the flutter of her light dress was lost in the darkness.
Her companion hurried after her.
I emerged quickly from my hiding-place, and followed them as far as the stile. He had overtaken her, and was striding by her side, bending and talking earnestly as they crossed the open gra.s.sland.
To follow sufficiently close to overhear what he said was impossible without detection, therefore I was compelled to remain and watch the receding figures until they became swallowed up in the darkness. Then, turning, I pa.s.sed through the belt of wood again, and, scaling a wall, gained the high-road, which, after a walk of half an hour, took me back to Hounslow.
That night I slept but little. The discovery I had made was extraordinary! Who was this woman with the strange name? ”La Gioia”
meant in Italian ”The Jewel,” or ”The Joy.” Why did they fear her vengeance?
In the morning, as I descended to breakfast, the landlord of the inn, standing in his s.h.i.+rt-sleeves, met me at the foot of the stairs.
”Have you heard the terrible news, sir?” he inquired.
”No,” I said in surprise. ”What news?”