“Ah, yes,” said Terry. “But
blood will tell!”
It was a mournful echo of a thing she had told him
a thousand times.
She went straight down to the big living room and
drew Vance away, mindless of her guests. He came
humming until he was past the door and in the shadowy
hall. Then he touched her arm, suddenly grown
serious.
“What’s wrong, Elizabeth?”
Her voice was low, vibrating with fierceness.
And Vance blessed the dimness of the hall, for he
could feel the blood recede from his face and the
sweat stand on his forehead.
“Vance, if you’ve done what I think you’ve
done, you’re lower than a snake, and more poisonous
and more treacherous. And I’ll cut you out
of my heart and my life. You know what I mean?”
It was really the first important crisis that he had
ever faced. And now his heart grew small, cold.
He knew, miserably, his own cowardice. And like
all cowards, he fell back on bold lying to carry him
through. It was a triumph that he could make
his voice steady—more than steady.
He could even throw the right shade of disgust into
it.
“Is this another one of your tantrums, Elizabeth?
By heavens, I’m growing tired of ’em.
You continually throw in my face that you hold the
strings of the purse. Well, tie them up as far
as I’m concerned. I won’t whine.
I’d rather have that happen than be tyrannized
over any longer.”
She was much shaken. And there was a sting in
this reproach that carried home to her; there was
just a sufficient edge of truth to wound her.
Had there been much light, she could have read his
face; the dimness of the hall was saving Vance, and
he knew it.
“God knows I’d like to believe that you
haven’t had anything to do with it. But
you and I are the only two people in the world who
know the secret of it—”
He pretended to guess. “It’s something
about Terence? Something about his father?”
Again she was disarmed. If he were guilty, it
was strange that he should approach the subject so
openly. And she began to doubt.
“Vance, he knows everything! Everything
except the real name of Black Jack!”
“Good heavens!”
She strained her eyes through the shadows to make
out his real expression; but there seemed to be a
real horror in his restrained whisper.
“It isn’t possible, Elizabeth!”
“It came in that letter. That letter I
wanted to open, and which you persuaded me not to!”
She mustered all her damning facts one after another.
“And it was postmarked from Craterville.
Vance, you have been in Craterville lately!”
He seemed to consider.
“Could I have told anyone? Could I, possibly?
No, Elizabeth, I’ll give you my word of honor
that I’ve never spoken a syllable about that
subject to anyone!”
“Ah, but what have you written?”
