Stahl smiled a strange smile as he said, pointing to the goblet and the minute bottle Marjory had just placed on the table at his side: "You shall sweeten a bitter draught for me by mixing it, and I will drink to you when I take it by-and-by."

His eye was on her now, keen, cold and steadfast, as she drew near to serve him. He saw the troubled look she fixed upon the cup, he saw her hand tremble as she poured the one sale drop, and heard a double meaning in her words:

"This is the first, I hope it may he the last time that I shall need to pour this dangerous draught for you."

She laid down the nearly emptied vial, replaced the cup and turned to go. But, as if bent on trying her to the utmost, though each test tortured him, Stahl arrested her by saving, with an unwonted tremor in his voice, a rebellious tenderness in his eves: "Stay, Ursula, I may fall asleep and so not see you until - morning. Bid me good-night, my wife."

She went to him, as if drawn against her will, and for a moment they stood face to face, looking their last on one another in this life. Then Stahl s.n.a.t.c.hed her to him with an embrace almost savage in its pa.s.sionate fervor, and Ursula kissed him once with the cold lips, that said, without a smile, "Good-night, my husband, sleep in peace!"

"Judas!" he muttered, as she vanished, leaving him spent with the controlled emotions of that brief interview. Old Marjory heard the word, and from that involuntary betrayal seemed to gather courage for a secret which had burned upon her tongue for two mortal hours. As Stahl sunk again into his cushioned seat, and seemed about to relapse into his moody reverie, she leaned towards him, saving in a whisper: "May 1 tell you something, sir?"

"Concerning w hat or w hom, my old gossip?" he answ ered, listlessly, yet with even more than usual kindliness, for now' this humble, faithful creature seemed his only friend.

"My mistress, sir," she said, nodding significantly.

His face woke then, he sat erect, and w ith an eager gesture bade her speak.

"I've long mistrusted her; for ever since her cousin came she has not been the woman or the w ife she was at first. It's not tor me to meddle, but it's clear to see that if you were gone there'd be a wedding soon."

Stahl frowned, eyed her keenlv, seemed to catch some helpful hint from her indignant countenance, and answered, with a pensive smile: "I know it, I forgive it; and am sure that, for my sake, you will be less frank to others.Ts this what you wished to tell me, Marjory?"

"Bless your unsuspecting heart, I wish it was, sir. I heard her words last night, I watched her all to-dav, and when she went out at dusk I followed her, and saw her buy it."

Stahl started, as if about to give vent to some sudden pa.s.sion, but repressed it, and w ith a look of well-feigned wonder, asked: "Buy what?"

Marjory pointed silently to the table, upon w hich lay three objects, the cup, the little vial and a rose that had fallen from Ursula's bosom as she bent to render her husband the small service he had asked of her. There wras no time to feign horror, grief or doubt, for a paroxysm of real pain seized him in its gripe, and served him better than any counterfeit of mental suffering could have done. 1 Ie conquered it by the pow er of an inflexible spirit that would not yield yet, and laying his thin hand on Marjory's arm, he w hispered, hastily: "Hush! Never hint that again, I charge you. I bade her get it, my store was nearly gone, and I feared I should need it in the night."

The old woman read his answer as he meant she should, and laid her withered cheek down on his hand, saying, with the tearless grief of age: "Always so loving, generous and faithful! You may forgive her, but I never can."

Neither spoke for several minutes, then Stahl said: "I will lie dow n and try to rest a little before I go - "

The sentence remained unfinished, as, w ith a weary yet wistful air, he glanced about the shadowy room, asking, dumbly, "Where?" Then he shook off the sudden influence of some deeper sentiment than fear that for an instant thrilled and startled him.

"Leave me, Marjory, set the door ajar, and let me be alone until I ring.

She went, and for an hour he lay listening to the steps of gathering guests, the sound of music, the soft murmur of conversation, and the pleasant stir of life that filled the house with its social charm, making his solitude doubly deep, his mood doubly bitter.

Once Ursula stole in, and finding him apparently asleep, paused for a moment studying the wan face, with its stirless lids, its damp forehead and its pale lips, scarcely parted by the fitful breath, then, like a sombre shadow, flitted from the room again, unconscious that the closed eyes flashed wide to watch her go.

Presently there came a sudden hush, and borne on the wings of an entrancing air Ursula's voice came floating up to him, like the sweet, soft whisper of some better angel, imploring him to make a sad life n.o.ble by one just and generous action at its close. No look, no tone, no deed of patience, tenderness or self-sacrifice of hers but rose before him now, and pleaded for her with the magic of that unconscious lay. No ardent hope, no fair ambition, no high purpose of his youth, but came again to show the utter failure of his manhood, and in the hour darkened by a last temptation his benighted soul groped blindly for a firmer faith than that which superst.i.tion had defrauded of its virtue. Like many another man, for one short hour Felix Stahl wavered between good and evil, and like so many a man in whom pa.s.sion outweighs principle, evil won. As the magical music ceased, a man's voice took up the strain, a voice mellow, strong and clear, singing as if the exultant song were but the outpouring of a hopeful, happy heart. Like some wild creature wounded suddenly, Stahl leaped from his couch and stood listening with an aspect which would have appalled the fair musician and struck the singer dumb.

"She might have spared me that!" he panted, as through the heavy beating of his heart he heard the voice he hated lending music to the song he loved, a song of lovers parting in the summer night, whose dawn would break upon their wedding-day. Whatever hope of merciful relenting might have been kindled by one redeeming power was for ever quenched by that ill-timed air, for with a gesture of defiant daring, Stahl drew the full vial from his breast, dashed its contents into the cup, and drained it to the dregs.

A long shudder crept over him as he set it down, then a pale peace dawned upon his face, as, laying his weary head upon the pillow it would never find sleepless any more, he pressed the rose against his lips, saying, with a bitter smile that never left his face again:

"I won my rose, and her thorns have pierced me to the heart; but mv blight is on her, and no other man will wear her in his bosom when I am gone."

PART III.

" Stay , Evan , when the others go; I have much to sav to you, and a packet of valuable papers to entrust to you. Do not forget."

"You regard me with a strange look, Ursula, you speak in a strange tone. What has happened?"

"They tell me that Felix will live, with care and a journey to the South."

"I catch your meaning now. You will go with him."

"No, my journey will be made alone."

She looked beyond him as she spoke, w ith a rapt yet tranquil glance, and such a sudden brightness shone upon her face that her cousin w atched her half bew ildered for a moment; then caught at a hope that filled him with a troubled joy, and w'hispered with beating heart and lowered voice: "Shall I not follow you, Ursula?"

Her eye came back to him, clear and calm, vet very tender in its wistfulness, and though her words sounded propitious his hope died suddenly.

"I think you will follow' soon, and I shall wait for you in the safe refuge I am seeking."

They stood silent for many minutes, thinking thoughts for which they had no w'ords, then as a pause fell after music, Ursula said: "Now I must sing again. Give me a draught of water, my throat is parched."

Her cousin served her, but before the water touched her lips the gla.s.s fell shattered at her feet, for a wild, shrill cry rang through the house silencing the gav sounds below, and rudely breaking the long hush that had reigned above. For one breathless instant all stood like living images of wonder, fear and fright, all w aited for what should follow that dread cry. An agitated servant appeared upon the threshold seeking his mistress. She saw him, yet stood as if incapable of motion, as he made his way to her through a crowd of pale, expectant faces.

"What is it?" she asked, with lips that could hardly syllable the words.

"My master, madam - dead in his bed - old Marjory has just found him. I've sent for Doctor Keen," began the man, but Ursula only seemed to hear and understand one word: "Dead!" she echoed - "so suddenly, so soon - it cannot be true. Evan, take me to him."

She stretched out her hands as if she had gone blind, and led by her cousin, left the room, followed by several guests, in whom curiosity or sympathy was stronger than etiquette or fear. Up they went, a strange procession, and entering the dusky room, lighted only by a single shaded lamp, found Marjory lamenting over her dead master in a paroxysm of the wildest grief. Evan pa.s.sed in before his cousin, bent hastilv and listened at the breathless lips, touched the chill forehead, and bared the wrist to feel if any flutter lingered in the pulse. But as he pushed back the loose sleeve of the wrapper, upon the wasted arm appeared a strange device. Two slender serpents twined together like the ring, and in the circle several Hindoo characters traced in the same deep red lines. At that sight the arm dropped from his hold, and he fell back daunted by a nameless fear which he could neither master nor divine.

As Ursula appeared the old woman's grief changed to an almost fierce excitement, for rising she pointed from the dead husband to the living wife, crying shrilly: "Come; come and see your work, fair-faced devil that you are! Here he lies, safe in the deadly sleep you gave him. Look at him and deny it if you dare!"

Ursula did look, and through the horror that blanched her face many eyes saw the shadow of remorse, the semblance of guilt. Stahl lay as she left him, his head pillowed on his arm with the easy grace habitual to him, but the pallor of that sleeping face was now changed to the awful grayness that living countenances never wear. A bitter smile still lingered on the white lips, and those mysterious eyes were wide open, full of a gloomy intelligence that appalled the beholder with the scornful triumph which still lurked there unconquered even by death. These defiant eyes appeared fixed on Ursula alone; she could not look away, nor break the spell that held her own, and through the hurried scene that followed she seemed to address her dead husband, not her living accuser.

"My work? the sleep I gave? what dare I not deny?" she said, below her breath, like one bewildered.

"See her feign innocence with guilt stamped on her face!" cried Marjory, in a pa.s.sion of indignant sorrow. "You killed him, that is your work. You drugged that cup with the poison I saw you buy to-day - that is the sleep you gave him - and you dare not deny that you hated him, wished him dead, and said last night you'd not be troubled long, for you had borne enough."

"I did not kill him! You saw me prepare his evening draught, and what proof have you that he did not pa.s.s away in sleep?" demanded Ursula, more firmly, yet with an awestruck gaze still fixed upon her husband's face.

"This is my proof!" and Marjory held up the efripty counterpart of the little vial that lav on the table.

"That here! I left it in my - "

A hand at Ursula's lips cut short the perilous admission, as Evan whispered: "Hush! for G.o.d's sake, own nothing yet."

"Too late for that," screamed Marjory, more and more excited bv each word. "I found it in the ashes where she flung it in her haste, believing it was destroyed. I saw it glitter w hen I went to mend the fire before I woke my master. I knew it bv the freshness of the label, and in a moment felt that my poor master w as past all waking of mine, and found it so. I saw her buy it, I told him of it, but he loved her still and tried to deceive me w ith the kind lie that he bade her do it. I showed him that I knew the truth, and he only said, 'I know' it, I forgive her, keep the secret for my sake,' and trusting her to the last, paid for his blind faith w ith his life."

"No, no, I never murdered him! I found him sleeping like a child an hour ago, and in that sleep he died," said Ursula, wringing her hands like one well nigh distraught.

"An hour ago! hear that and mark it all of you," cried Marjory.

"Two hours ago she bade him good night before me, and he called her 'Judas,' as she kissed him and went. Now she owns that she returned and found him safely sleeping - G.o.d forgive me that I ever left him! for then she must have remixed the draught in which he drank his death. Oh, madam! could you have no pity, could you not remember how he loved you? see your rose fast shut in his poor dead hand - could you not leave him the one little month of life he had to live before you were set free?"

"One month!" said Ursula, with a startled look. "They told me he would live to be a hale, old man. Why was I so deceived?"

"Because he would not mar your pleasure even for a single night. He meant to tell you the sad truth gently, for he thought you had a woman's heart, and would mourn him a little though you could not love."

Paler Ursula could not become, but as mesh after mesh of the net in which she had unconsciously helped to snare herself appeared, her husband's purpose flashed upon her, yet seemed too horrible for belief, till the discovery of that last deceit was made; then like one crushed by an overwhelming blow, she covered up her face and sunk down at Evan's feet. He did not raise her up, and though a gust of eager, agitated voices went whispering through the room, no one spoke to her, no one offered comfort to the widow, counsel to the woman, pity to the culprit. They listened only to old Marjory, who poured forth her story w ith such genuine grief, such perfect sincerity, that all felt its pathos and few doubted its entire truth. Evan alone believed in Ursula's denial, even while to himself he ow ned that she had borne enough to make any means of liberation tempting. He saw more clearly than the rest how' every act, look and word of hers condemned her; and felt with a bitter pang that such an accusation, even if proved false, must cast a shadow' on her name and darken all her life.

Suddenly, when the stir w as at its height, Ursula rose, calm, cold and steady; yet few who saw' her then ever forgot the desolate despair which made that beautiful face a far more piteous sight than the dead one. Turning w ith all her wonted dignity, she confronted the excited group, and w ithout a tear in her eye, a falter in her voice, a trace of shame, guilt or fear in mien or manner, she said clearly, solemnly, "I am guilty of murder in my heart, for I did w ish that man dead; but I did not kill him. The words I spoke that night were the expression of a resolve made in a moment of despair, a resolve to end my own life, w hen I could bear no more. To-day I w as told that he would live; then my time seemed come, and believing this to be my last night on earth, I bade nn husband farewell as we parted, and in a few hours hoped to lav down the burden he had made heavier than I could bear. That poison was purchased for myself, not him; he discovered it, believed I meant his death, and w ith a black art, w hich none can fathom but myself, so distorted my acts and w ords, before a witness, that the deed committed by himself should doom me to ignominy and avenge his wrong. I have no hope that any one will credit so wild a tale, and therein his safety lies; but G.o.d knows I speak the truth, and I Ie w ill judge between us at a more righteous bar than any I can stand at here. Now do with me as you will, I am done."

Through all the bitter scenes of public accusation, trial and condemnation Ursula preserved the same mournful composure, as if having relinquished both hope and fear, no emotion remained to disturb the spirit of entire self-abnegation w hich had taken possession of her. All her cousins entreaties, commands and prayers failed to draw from her the key to the mystery of her strange marriage; even w hen, after many merciful delays, sentence w as at length p.r.o.nounced upon her, and captivity tor life was known to be her doom, she still refused to confess, saying: "This fate is worse than death; but till I lie on my deathbed I will prove faithful to the promise made that man, traitorous as he was to me. I have done with the world, so leave me to such peace as I can know, and go your way, dear Kvan, to forget that such a mournful creature lives."

But when all others fell away, when so-called triends proved timid, when enemies grew insolent and the w hole world seemed to cast her off, one man was true to her, one man still loved, believed and honored her, still labored to save her when all others gae her up as lost, still stood between her and the curious, sharp-tongued, heavy-handed world, earning a great compa.s.sion for himself, and, in time, a juster, gentler sentiment in favor of the woman whose sin and shame he had so n.o.bly helped to bear.

Weeks and months went heavily by, the city wearied itself with excited conjectures, conflicting rumors, varying opinions, and slowly came to look with more lenient eyes upon the beautiful culprit, whose tragic fate, with its unexplained mystery, began to plead for her more eloquently than the most gifted advocate. Few doubted her guilt, and, as she feared, few believed the accusations she brought against her dead husband; but the plea of temporary insanity had been made by her counsel, and though she strenuously denied its truth, there were daily growing hopes of pardon for an offense which, thanks to Evan's tireless appeals, now wore a far less heinous aspect than at first.

All the long summer days Ursula sat alone in her guarded room, tranquilly enjoying the sunshine that flickered through the leaves with which Evan had tried to mask the bars that shut out liberty but not heaven's light. All the balmy summer nights she lay on her narrow bed, haunted by dreams that made sleep a penance and not a pleasure, or watched, with wakeful eyes, the black shadow of a cross the moon cast upon her breast as it peered through the barred window like a ghostly face. To no one did she reveal the thoughts that burdened her, whitening her hair, furrowing her face and leaving on her forehead the impress of a great grief which no human joy could ever efface.

One autumn day Evan came hastening in full of a glad excitement, which for the moment seemed to give him back the cheery youthfulness he was fast losing. He found his cousin lying on the couch he had provided for her, for even the prison officers respected that faithful love, and granted every favor in their power. She, too, seemed to be blessed with a happy mood, for the gloom had left her eyes, a peaceful smile sat on her lips, and when she spoke her voice was musical, with an undertone of deep emotion.

"Bless your tranquil face, Ursula! One would think you guessed my tidings without telling. Yes, it is almost certain that the pardon will be granted, in answer to my prayers. One more touch will win the men who hold your fate in their hands, and that touch you can give by clearing up the mystery of Stahl's strange power over you. For your own sake and for mine do not deny me now."

"I will not."

The joy, surprise and satisfaction of the moment caused Evan to forget the sad condition upon which this confidence could be accorded. He thought only of all they had suffered, all they might yet enjoy if the pardon could be gained, and holding that thin hand fast in both his own, he listened, with absorbing interest, to the beloved voice that unfolded to him the romance within a romance, which had made a tragedy of three lives.

"I must take you far back into the past, Evan, for my secret is but the sequel of one begun long before our birth. Our grandfather, as you know, was made governor of an Indian province while still a young and comely man. One of the native princes, though a conquered subject, remained his friend, and the sole daughter of this prince loved the handsome Englishman with the despotic fervor of her race. The prince offered the hand of the fair Naya to his friend, but being already betrothed to an English girl, he courteously declined the alliance. That insult, as she thought it, never was forgiven or forgotten by the haughty princess; but, with the subtle craft of her half-savage nature, she devised a vengeance which should not only fall upon the offender, but pursue his descendants to the very last. No apparent breach was made in the friendship of the prince and governor, even when the latter brought his young wife to the residence. But from that hour Naya's curse was on his house, unsuspected and unsleeping, and as years went by the Fate of the Forrests became a tragical story throughout British India, for the brothers, nephews and sons of Roger Forrest all died violent or sudden deaths, and the old man himself was found murdered in the jungle when at the height of fame and favor.

"Two twin lads alone remained of all who had borne the name, and for a time the fatal doom seemed averted, as they grew to manhood, married and seemed born to know all the blessings which virtue and valor could deserve. But though the princess and her father were dead, the curse was still relentlessly executed by some of her kindred, for in the year of your birth your father vanished suddenly, utterly, in broad day, yet left no trace behind, and from that hour to this no clue to the lost man was ever found beyond a strong suspicion, which was never confirmed. In that same year a horrible discovery was made, which shocked and dismayed all Christian India, and was found hard of belief across the sea. Among the tribes that infested certain provinces, intent on mischief and difficult to subdue, was one cla.s.s of a.s.sa.s.sins unknown even to the native governments of the country, and entirely unsuspected bv the English. This society was as widely spread and carefully organized as it was secret, powerful and fanatical. Its members worshipped a gloomy divinity called Bohwanie, who, according to their heathen belief, was best propitiated by human sacrifices. The name of these devotees was Phansegars, or Brothers of the Good Work; and he who offered up the greatest number of victims was most favored bv the G.o.ddess, and received a high place in the Hindoo heaven. All India was filled with amazement and affright at this discovery, and mysteries, till then deemed unfathomable, became as clear as day. Among others the Fate of the Forrests was revealed; for by the confession of the one traitor w ho betrayed the society, it appeared that the old prince and his sons had been members of the brotherhood, which had its higher and its lower grades, and when the young governor drew down upon himself the wrath of Nava, her kindred avenged her bv propitiating Bohwanie w ith victim after victim from our fated family, ahvays working so secretly that no trace of their art remained but the seal of death.

"This terrible discovery so dismayed mv father that, taking you, an orphan then, and mv mother, he fled to England, hoping to banish the dreadful past from his mind. But he never could, and it preved upon him night and dav. No male Forrest had escaped the doom since the curse was spoken, and an unconquerable foreboding haunted him that sooner or later he too should be sacrificed, though continents and oceans lay between him and the avengers. The fact that the black brotherhood was discovered and destroyed weighed little with him, for still a fear pursued him that Navas kindred would hand down the curse from generation to generation, and execute with that tenacitv of purpose which in that climate of the pa.s.sions makes the humblest foe worthy of fear. He doubted all men, confided his secret to none, not even to his wife, and led a wandering life with us until my mother died. You remember, Evan, that the same malady that destroyed her fell likewise upon you, and that my father was forced to leave us in Paris, that he might comply with my mother's last desire and lay her in English ground. Before he went he took me apart and told me the dark history of our unfortunate family, that I might be duly impressed with the necessity of guarding you with a sleepless vigilance; for even then he could not free himself from that ominous foreboding, soon, alas! to be confirmed. It was a strange confidence to place in a girl of seventeen, but he had no friend at hand, and knowing how wholly I loved you, how safe I was from the Eate of the Eorrests, he gave you to my charge and left us for a week. You know he never came again, but found his ghostly fear a sad reality in England, and on the day that was to give my mothers body to the earth he was discovered dead in his bed, with the marks of fingers at his throat, vet no other trace of his murderer ever appeared, and another dark secret was buried in the grave. You remember the horror and the grief that nearly killed me when the tidings came, and how from that hour there was a little cloud between us, a cloud I could not lift because I had solemnly promised my father that I would watch over you, yet conceal the fate that menaced you, lest it should mar your peace as it had done his own. Evan, I have kept my word till the danger is for ever past."

She paused there, but for a moment her cousin could only gaze at her, bewildered by the sudden light let in by the gloomy past. Presently he said, impetuously: "You have, my faithful Ursula, and I will prove that I am grateful by watching over you with a vigilance as sleepless and devoted as your own. But tell me, was there nowhere in the world justice, power or wit enough to stay that savage curse? Why did not my father, or yours, appeal to the laws of either country and obtain redress?"

"They did, and, like others, appealed in vain; for, till the Phan- segars were discovered, they knew not whom to accuse. After that, as Naya's kindred were all gone but a few newly-converted women and harmless children, no magistrate in India would condemn the innocent for the crimes of their race, and my father had no proofs to bring against them. Few in England believed the seemingly incredible story when it was related to them in the Indian reports. No, Evan, the w ily princess entrusted her revenge to able hands, and well they did the work to the very last, as w e have bitter cause to know'. Every member of the brotherhood, and even helper of the curse, bore on his left arm the word 'Bohwanie!' in Hindoo characters. You saw the sign on that dead arm. Do vou understand the secret now?"

"Great heavens, Ursula! Do you mean that Stahl, a Christian man, belonged to this heathen league? Surely you wrong him there."

"You will not think so when I have told all. It seemed as horrible, as incredible to me as now to you, when I first saw and comprehended on the night that changed both our lives. Stahl suspected, from many unconscious betrayals of mine (my dislike of India, mv anxiety for you, then absent, and a hundred indications unseen bv other eyes) that I knew the secret of the curse; he proved it by whispering the hated name of Bohwanie in my ear, and show ing me the fatal sign - I knew it, for my father had told me that also. Need I tell you what recollections rushed upon me when I saw it, what visions of blood rose red before my panic-stricken eyes, how instantly I felt the truth of my instinctive aversion to him, despite his charms of mind and manner, and, above all, how utterly I was overpowered by a sense of your peril in the presence of your unknown enemy? A single thought, hope, purpose ruled me, to save you at any cost, and guard the secret still; for I felt that I possessed some power over that dread man, and resolved to use it to the uttermost. You left us, and then I learned at what a costly price I could purchase the life so dear to me. Stahl briefly told me that his mother and one old woman w ere the last of Navas race, and w hen his grandfather, who belonged to the brotherhood, suffered death with them, he charged her to perpetuate the curse, as all the members of the family had pledged themselves to do. She promised, and when my father left India she followed, but could not discover his hiding-place, and with a blind faith in destiny, as native to her as her superst.i.tion, she left time to bring her victim to her. While resting from her quest in Germany she met and married Felix Stahl, the elder, a learned man, fond of the mysticism and wisdom of the East, who found an irresistible charm in the dark-eyed woman, who, for his sake, became a Christian in name, though she still clung to her Pagan G.o.ds in secret. With such parents what wonder that the son was the man we found him? for his father bequeathed him his features, feeble health, rare learning and accomplishments; his mother those Indian eyes that I never can forget, his fiery yet subtle nature, the superst.i.tious temperament and the fatal vow.

"While the father lived she kept her secret hidden; when he died, Felix, then a man, was told it, and having been carefully prepared by every art, every appeal to the pride and pa.s.sion of his race, every shadow years of hatred could bring to blacken the memory of the first Forrest and the wrong he w as believed to have done their ancestors, Felix was induced to take upon himself the fulfilment of the family vow. Yet living in a Christian community, and having been bred up by a virtuous father, it w as a hard task to a.s.sume, and only the commands of the mother w hom he adored would have won compliance. I le was told that but two Forrests now remained, one a girl who w as to go scatheless, the other a boy, w7ho, sooner or later, was to fall by his hand, for he was now the last male of his race as you of ours. How7 his mother discovered these facts he never knew', unless from the old woman w ho came to them from England to die near her kin. I suspect that she was the cause of my poor father's death, though Stahl swore that he never knew of it until I told him.

"After much urging, many commands, he gave the promise, asking only freedom to do the work as he would, for though the savage spirit of his Hindoo ancestors lived again in him, the influence of civilization made the savage modes of vengeance abhorrent to him. His mother soon followed the good professor, then leaving our meeting still to chance, Felix went roaming up and down the world a solitary, studious man, for ever haunted by the sinful deed he had promised to perform, and whieh grew7 ever more and more repugnant to him.

The Mystery Revealed "In an evil hour we met; my name first arrested him; my beauty (I may speak of it now for it is gone) attracted him; my evident aversion piqued his pride and roused his will to overcome it; and then the knowledge of my love for you fanned his smouldering pa.s.sion to a blaze and confirmed his wavering purpose. You asked on that sad night if I had learned to love while you were gone? I spoke truly when I answered yes, for absence proved how dear you had become to me, and I only waited your return to gratefully accept the love with which I knew your heart was overflowing. You came, and seeing Stahl's devotion, doubted the affection I never had confessed. He saw it plainly, he divined your pa.s.sion, and in an hour decided upon gratifying his own desire, keeping the promise he made his mother, yet sparing himself the crime of murder, well knowing that for you life without me would be a fate more dark than any death he could devise. I pleaded, prayed and wept, but he was inexorable. To tell you was to destroy you, for he feared nothing; to keep the secret was to forfeit your love and sacrifice myself. One hope alone remained to me, a sinful yet a pardonable one in such a strait as mine; Felix could not live long; I might support life for a time by the thought that I had saved you, by the hope that I might soon undeceive and recompense you for the loss you had sustained. Evan, it was a natural yet unrighteous act, for I did evil that good might come of it, and such deeds never prosper. Better have left you in G.o.d's hand, better even have seen you dead and at peace than have condemned you to the life you have led and still must lead for years perhaps. I was a weak, loving, terror- stricken woman, and in that dreadful hour one fear overwhelmed all other pa.s.sions, principles and thoughts. I could save you, and to accomplish that I would so gladly have suffered death in any shape. Believe that, dearest Evan, and forgive me for the fate to which I have condemned the man I love, truly, tenderly even to the end."

Her voice died in a broken sob as Evan gathered her close to his sore heart, and she clung there spent and speechless, as if the pain of parting were for ever over and her refuge found at last. Evan spoke first, happily and hopefully for, the future opened clearly, and the long twilight seemed about to break into a blissful dawn.

"You shall be repaid for your exceeding love, Ursula, with a devotion such as man never gave to woman until now. There is no longer any cloud between us, nor shall there be between you and the world. Justice shall be done, and then we will leave this city of bitter memories behind us, and go away together to begin the new life that lies before us."

"We shall begin a new life, but not together, Evan," was the low answer, as she tenderly laid her pale cheek to his, as if to soften the hard truth.

"But, love, you will be free at once; there can be no doubt of the pardon now."

"Yes, I shall soon be free, but human hands will not open mv prison doors, and I humbly trust that I may receive pardon, but not from human lips. Evan, I told you I would never tell my secret till I lay on my deathbed; I lie there now."

If she had stabbed him with the hand folded about his neck, the act would not have shocked and startled him like those last words. They pierced him to the heart, and as if in truth he had received a mortal wound, he could only gaze at her in dumb dismav, with eyes full of anguish, incredulity and grief.

"Let me seem cruel that I may be merciful, and end both suspense and fear by telling all at once. There is no hope for me. I have prayed to live, but it cannot be, for slowly yet surely Felix has killed me. I said I would gladly die for you, G.o.d takes me at my word, and now I am content. Let me make my sacrifice cheerfully, and let the suffering I have known be mv atonement for the wrong I did myself and you."

As she spoke so tranquilly, so tenderly, a veil seemed to fall from before her cousins eves. He looked into the face that smiled at him, saw there the shadow which no human love can banish, read perfect peace in its pale serenity, felt that life was a poor boon to ask for her, and with a pang that rent that faithful heart of his, silently relinquished the one sustaining hope which had upheld him through that gloomy year. Calm with a grief too deep for tears, he drew the wan and wasted creature w ho had given herself for him closer to the shelter of his arms, and changed her last fear to loving pride by saying, with a manful courage, a meek resignation that enn.o.bled him by its sincerity: "Rest here in peace, my Ursula. No selfish grief shall cloud your sunset or rob you of one hour of happy love. I can bear the parting, for I shall follow soon; and thank G.o.d that after the long bewilderment of this sad world we may enjoy together the new life which has no end."

THE END.

A Double Tragedy. An Acors Story

CHAPTER I.

CLOTILDE was IN HER element that night, for it was a Spanish play, requiring force and fire in its delineation, and she threw herself into her part with an abandon that made her seem a beautiful embodiment of power and pa.s.sion. As for me I could not plav ill, for when with her my acting was not art hut nature, and I was the lover that I seemed. Before she came I made a business, not a pleasure, of mv profession, and was content to fill my place, with no higher ambition than to earn my salary w ith as little effort as possible, to resign myself to the distasteful labor to which my poverty condemned me. She changed all that; for she saw7 the talent I neglected, she understood the w ant of motive that made me indifferent, she pitied me for the reverse of fortune that placed me w here I was; bv her influence and example she roused a manlier spirit in me, kindled every spark of talent I possessed, and incited me to win a success I had not cared to labor tor till then.