"I have something to say to you," said Hilda at last.
Gualtier looked at her with earnest inquiry, but said nothing.
"You remember, of course, what we were talking about the last time we spoke to one another?"
"Of course, I have never forgotten that."
"It was nearly two years ago," said Hilda, "At one time I did not expect that such a conversation could ever be renewed. With the General's death all need for it seemed to be destroyed. But now that need seems to have arisen again."
"Have you ever deciphered the paper?" asked Gualtier.
"Not more than before," said Hilda. "But I have made a discovery of the very greatest importance; something which entirely confirms my former suspicions gathered from the cipher. They are additional papers which I will show you presently, and then you will see whether I am right or not. I never expected to find any thing of the kind. I found them quite by chance, while I was half mechanically carrying out my old idea. After the General's death I lost all interest in the matter for some time, for there seemed before me no particular inducement to go on with it. But this discovery has changed the whole aspect of the affair."
"What was it that you found?" asked Gualtier, who was full of curiosity. "Was it the key to the cipher, or was it a full explanation, or was it something different?"
"They were certain letters and business papers. I will show them to you presently. But before doing so I want to begin at the beginning. The whole of that cipher is perfectly familiar to me, all its difficulties are as insurmountable as ever, and before I show you these new papers I want to refresh your memory about the old ones.
"You remember, first of all," said she, "the peculiar character of that cipher writing, and of my interpretation. The part that I deciphered seemed to be set in the other like a wedge, and while this was decipherable the other was not."
Gualtier nodded.
"Now I want you to read again the part that I deciphered," said Hilda, and she handed him a piece of paper on which something was written. Gualtier took it and read the following, which the reader has already seen. Each sentence was numbered.
1._ Oh may God have mercy on my wretched soul Amen_
2. _O Pomeroy forged a hundred thousand dollars_
3. _O N Pomeroy eloped with poor Lady Chetwynde_
4. _She acted out of a mad impulse in flying_
5. _She listened to me and ran off with me_
6. _She was piqued at her husband's act_
7. _Fell in with Lady Mary Chetwynd_
8. _Expelled the army for gaming_
9. _N Pomeroy of Pomeroy Berks_
10. _O I am a miserable villain_
Gualtier looked over it and then handed it back.
"Yes," said he, "I remember, of course, for I happen to know every word of it by heart."
"That is very well," said Hilda, approvingly. "And now I want to remind you of the difficulties in my interpretation before going on any further.
"You remember that these were, first, the con fusion in the way of writing the name, for here there is 'O Pomeroy,' 'O N Pomeroy,' and 'N Pomeroy,' in so short a document.
"Next, there is the mixture of persons, the writer sometimes speaking in the first person and sometimes in the third, as, for instance, when he says, '_O N Pomeroy_ eloped with poor Lady Chetwynde;' and then he says, 'She listened to _me_ and ran off with me.'
"And then there are the incomplete sentences, such as, 'Fell in with Lady Mary Chetwynd'--'Expelled the army for gaming.'
"Lastly, there are two ways in which the lady's name is spelled, 'Chetwynde,' and 'Chetwynd.'
"You remember we decided that these might be accounted for in one of two ways. Either, first, the writer, in copying it out, grew confused in forming his cipher characters; or, secondly, he framed the whole paper with a deliberate purpose to baffle and perplex."
"I remember all this," said Gualtier, quietly. "I have not forgotten it."
"The General's death changed the aspect of affairs so completely," said Hilda, "and made this so apparently useless, that I thought you might have forgotten at least these minute particulars. It is necessary for you to have these things fresh in your mind, so as to regard the whole subject thoroughly."
"But what good will any discovery be now?" asked Gualtier, with unfeigned surprise. "The General is dead, and you can do nothing."
"The General is dead," said Hilda; "but the General's daughter lives."
Nothing could exceed the bitterness of the tone in which she uttered these words.
"His daughter! Of what possible concern can all this be to her?" asked Gualtier, who wished to get at the bottom of Hilda's purpose.
"I should never have tried to strike at the General," said Hilda, "if he had not had a daughter. It was not him that I wished to harm. It was _her_."
"And now," said Gualtier, after a silence, "she is out of your reach. She is Mrs. Molyneux. She will be the Countess of Chetwynde. How can she be harmed?"
As he spoke he looked with a swift interrogative glance at Hilda, and then turned away his eyes.
"True," said Hilda, cautiously and slowly; "she is beyond my reach. Besides, you will observe that I was speaking of the past. I was telling what I wished--not what I wish."
"That is precisely what I understood," said Gualtier. "I only asked so as to know how your wishes now inclined. I am anxious to serve you in any way."
"So you have said before, and I take you at your word," said Hilda, calmly. "I have once before reposed confidence in you, and I intend to do so again."
Gualtier bowed, and murmured some words of grateful acknowledgment.
"My work now," said Hilda, without seeming to notice him, "is one of investigation. I merely wish to get to the bottom of a secret. It is to this that I have concluded to invite your assistance."
"You are assured of that already, Miss Krieff," said Gualtier, in a tone of deep devotion. "Call it investigation, or call it any thing you choose, if you deign to ask my assistance I will do any thing and dare any thing."
Hilda laughed harshly.
"In truth," said she, dryly, "this does not require much daring, but it may cause trouble--it may also take up valuable time. I do not ask for any risks, but rather for the employment of the most ordinary qualities. Patience and perseverance will do all that I wish to have done."
"I am sorry, Miss Krieff, that there is nothing more than this. I should prefer to go on some enterprise of danger for your sake."
He laid a strong emphasis on these last words, but Hilda did not seem to notice it. She continued, in a calm tone:
"All this is talking in the dark. I must explain myself instead of talking round about the subject. To begin, then. Since our last interview I could find out nothing whatever that tended to throw any light on that mysterious cipher writing. Why it was written, or why it should be so carefully preserved, I could not discover. The General's death seemed to make it useless, and so for a long time I ceased to