t by force, away.

With an agony of sudden terror she pointed to the hallway, and laid
her finger upon her lip. And then, in a hoarse whisper, the woman
told, in her patois, broken with sobs, of the alternate spells
of fainting and exhaustion which had brought Irma Gluyas nigh to
Death's door.

The darkened rooms were closed, and the air redolent of the pungent
narcotic drugs of the sickroom. Utterly unmanned, Randolph Clayton
stole back to the old drawing-room, whose rich gilding and frescoed
beauties mocked the pale, silent face lying there below.

Forgetting all prudence, he covered the limp, helpless hand with
burning kisses, gazing into the drooping eyes where he would fain
call back a glance of life and love. In this supreme moment she
belonged only to him, by right of his loyal love. In the arched
doorway of the library stood the timid woman messenger with her
hands pressed to her panting bosom.

Suddenly Irma Gluyas opened her eyes and a faint murmur broke the
silence.

"Go, go; for God's sake. They must not find you here. Go! FOR YOUR
LIFE!" Her head fell back, but her fingers were closed upon his
hand in a despairing clutch. Then Randall Clayton staggered to the
library window for breath of air.

His heart was beating wildly. Was this the end of all. Life seemed
to have fled those beloved eyes; he could see Irma's motionless
form lying there, the very apotheosis of Love. He threw himself in
a chair, and his pent-up nature gave way at last.

Mechanically he swallowed the glass of wine handed him by the watchful
Leah, and yet before she had stolen behind a curtained alcove the
room seemed to whirl around him.

He made a last desperate effort to rise, but reeled around unsteadily
and then fell prone upon the tufted carpet. A danger signal had
aroused him at last, the sliding of heavy doors which cut off the
room where the Magyar witch lay now helpless in the stupor of the
criminal's deadliest narcotic. And the frightened Leah Einstein
fled away upstairs. She only divined Fritz Braun's purpose as an
intended robbery, or some audacious blackmail. Murder had never
entered her mind!

The strong man lying there upon the floor, with glazing eyes, saw
in his last gasps a wolfish face lit up with the fires of hate
bending over him. Clayton struggled to draw the pistol which had
been his faithful guardian of years.

One last flush of expiring reason showed him his life, honor, and
a future betrayed into t