The old woman's domination was strong--it was so strong that Joan felt appalled before the terrible mental force she was putting forth. The horror of her diseased mind sickened her, and filled her with something closely allied to terror. But she would not submit. Her love was greater than her courage, her power to resist for herself. She was thinking of those two men, but most of all she was thinking of Buck. She was determined upon another effort. And when that effort was spent--upon still another.
"Listen to me, aunt," she cried with no longer any attempt at appeal, with no longer any display of regard for this woman as a relation. "I am mistress in my own house, and I shall do as I choose. I, too, shall sit up and you will have to listen to me."
Mercy smiled ironically.
"Yes, you are mistress in your own house, so long as you do not attempt to interfere with my plans. Sit up, girl, if you choose, and talk. I am prepared to listen even though your twaddle bores me."
A sound caught Joan's attention, and the desperate position of her lover and his friend set thought flashing swiftly through her mind. The sound was of Mrs. Ransford moving in the kitchen.
"Then listen to this," she cried. "You have told me that I am cursed. You have told me that death and disaster must follow me wherever I go. I love Buck. It is the first and only time I shall ever love. I know that. He is the love of my whole life. Without him, without his love, life to me is inconceivable. He and his love are so precious to me that I would give my life for his at any moment--now, if need be. I want you to know that. You have armed yourself so that I shall not interfere with your plans. I tell you it is useless, for I shall warn him--cost me what it may."
She watched the other closely. She watched for the effect of her words--every one of which was spoken from the bottom of her heart. The effect was what she anticipated. She knew this woman's expressed intention was deliberate, and would be carried out. One hand moved toward her lean bosom, and Joan knew, without doubt, what she had to face. Turning her back deliberately she moved across to the window, which was wide open in a vain attempt to cool the superheated room, and took up her place near the table, so that she was in full view of her aunt's insane eyes. Then she went on at once-"You call it justice that you would mete out to the Padre. I tell you it is a ruthless, cold-hearted revenge, which amounts to deliberate murder. It is murder because you know he cannot prove his innocence. That, perhaps, is your affair. But Buck's life is mine. And in threatening the Padre you threaten him, because he will defend his friend to the last. Perhaps by this, in your insane vanity, you hope to justify yourself as a seer and prophetess, instead of being forced to the admission that you are nothing but a mountebank, an unscrupulous mountebank--and even worse. But I will humor you. I will show you how your own words are coming back on you. I had almost forgotten them, so lost was I in my foolish belief in your powers. You told me there was salvation for me in a love that was stronger than death. Well, I have found that love. And if, as you claim, there is truth in your science, then I challenge you, the disaster and death you would now bring about cannot--will not take place. You are only a woman of earthly powers, a heartless creature, half demented by your venomous hatred of a good man. Your ends can, and will be defeated."