"I knew it!" she shrieked. "Tom Peters--Tom Peters has done away with
you. Is it not he? Speak!"

"Yes, it is he--Tom Peters--whom I loved more than all the world."

Even in the terrible oppression of the dream she could not resist
saying, woman-like:

"Did I not warn you against him?"

The phantom stared on silently and made no reply.

"But what was his motive?" she asked at length.

"Love of gold--and you. And you are giving yourself to him," it said
sternly.

"No, no, Everard! I will not! I will not! I swear it! Forgive me!"

The spirit shook its head sceptically.

"You love him. Women are false--as false as men."

She strove to protest again, but her tongue refused its office.

"If you marry him, I shall always be with you! Beware!"

The dripping figure vanished as suddenly as it came, and Clara awoke in
a cold perspiration. Oh, it was horrible! The man she had learnt to
love, the murderer of the man she had learnt to forget! How her original