Kreutzer had been thinking of that note from Anna, and, for a time,
had found the obstacle a hard one to surmount. At length, and in good
time to meet the question, he had, however, arranged an explanation,
which, if not too carefully looked into, would seem reasonable.

"Oh, of course," said he. "You mean the note about her going away?
Why, that is easily to be understood. When she came I told her that I
have had luck. I told her that we have much money and we go to
Germany, at once. I was afraid that if she went back to your house
there would arise suspicions, so I said she must not go, but must be
content with just the note, alone, for her goodbyes. She did not wish
to do this, but consented, at the last, because I ordered her to do
it."

Mrs. Vanderlyn was now entirely convinced. He had made the case
against himself so black she could not doubt it; but she determined
that if he thought he would gain clemency in payment for the frankness
of his full confession he would find himself to be mistaken. It was
her duty as a member of society, she told herself, to see to it that
the guilty poor who prey upon the helpless rich should not pass on
unpunished.

"I understand," she said, "you are the guilty one. Your daughter is
quite innocent of this. It may be chance, alone, that keeps her so.
With such a father--but I will be merciful and will not show you what
a vile inheritance of wickedness you have prepared for the poor child.
Your conscience will do that, if you have any conscience. While you
are in prison you will have that to reflect upon."

He was dismayed. The ring had been returned. Would she still--"I--I