livid. The bandage across his forehead reddened with the fresh

bleeding of his wound.

"Go on," he whispered hoarsely, "tell me everything!"

"He found me singing in a little Bohemian café; it was the only thing I could do to earn my living. He befriended me, was kind to me, and before I knew where I was drifting, it had all happened. Too late, I realized what I meant in the scheme of his world, a plaything, a new toy for a day to be tossed aside when my novelty had worn off. When I knew the truth, I left it all. I came to Paris, where I had distant relatives. I threw myself on their mercy. They were good people, as you know. They took me in. I tried to forget! I never wanted to see anything of the old life again. As the months passed I believed myself safe, and then you came," her voice lifted, rang clear; "you, the man I had dreamed of, whom I thought could not exist outside of dreams. All the love, all the passion, all the adoration a woman is capable of, I gave to you. The rest of my life you know, every minute, every thought of it, up to--up to the day you brought me here. I was so hungry for happiness. You were my world. I couldn't bear to think of losing you. I decided not to tell you. I would make amends in a hundred ways for the deception. I tried to! I thought the past was dead, dead and buried. God, how I deluded myself! When we arrived here, here in your father's home, all the sunshine, all the joy went out of my life, for I came face to face with that man!"

"Here? You're mad!" The gentleness, the refinement had vanished from his expression, leaving the face of primitive man thirsting to get his fingers on the throat of his enemy. "Who is he? Tell me his name!"

She kept her eyes on his.

"He was known in this house as Antoine," she said.

"Antoine!" his lips curled with unutterable loathing, "Antoine! A servant!"

"He was not a servant. He was a spy in the service of the enemy!"

Gerome dropped her arm as though the touch seared his fingers, horror and amazement in his face.

"A spy! Good God! Then what are you?"

She nerved herself. The look in his eyes spelled death for her, but she must go on.

"When I saw him, I was wild with terror. He offered me a price for his silence. I was to get some information he wanted. What was I to do? What could I do? I only knew that I loved you, that I wanted to keep you. I only knew that I was going mad with the fear of losing you! I promised to do what he asked!"

"What was it?" His voice was low, even, deadly. She knew there could be no hope for her, but the oblivion of death would be welcome.

"I made you tell me where the attack was to be made. This was the information he wanted."

He recoiled, his eyes fixed on her with a look of unutterable horror.

"You sold my honor, my country!" he said at last. "You, whom I trusted with more than my life. Well, there's only one thing to do. Both of us must die!" Slowly he drew his pistol, his face cold and white as marble.

"Wait," she whispered. "I'm ready, I'm willing to die, but before, I want you to know everything." He lowered his arm and looked at her. "I knew that if I defied him he would get his information some other way. I knew I must seem to play into his hands, and thwart his purpose. I gave him information, but wrong, twenty miles wrong! It was I who sent the warning to Sains! And I know it reached there in time!"

"How do you know that?"

"Because he told me!"

"Told you? Where? When? Where is he now?" His face worked, his lips were drawn back from his teeth, his voice hoarse with passion.

For a moment she stood rigid, then she stepped to the hall door and threw it open.

"He is here!" she said.

Together they looked at the dead man at their feet. Gerome raised his eyes to hers.

"You----?" he said.

She nodded slowly.

"He came here, just before you did, to be revenged upon me. He said I had deliberately given him the wrong information. He taunted me with the past. He, who had caused it all! He threatened my life, said he would force me out of your arms and into the streets, where I belonged. So I killed him!"

Gerome threw his arm up across his eyes. His shoulders shook with dry sobbing.

"Marie, Marie," he cried. "Oh God! my world lies shattered at my feet!"

"And mine--and mine," she whispered.