nce to which she had offered sacrifice, were not also a myth,
the piteous creation of a woman's fond imagination, a thing non-existent
save in the realms of fancy, a dream-goal to which no man might attain
and very few aspire.

All through the long day she lay alone with her problem, perpetually
turning it in her mind, perpetually asking by what tragic influence she
had ever been brought to fancy that this man with his violent,
unrestrained nature, his fierce egoism, his murderous impulses, had ever
been worthy of the halo her love had fashioned for him. No man was
worthy! No man was worthy! This man least of all! Had not he himself
warned her over and over again, and she had not listened? Perhaps he had
not meant her to listen. Perhaps it had only been another of his devilish
artifices for ensnaring her, that attitude of humility, half-scoffing,
half-persuasive, with which he had masked his inner vileness.

Oh, she was sick at heart that day, sick with disappointment, sick with
humiliation, sick with a terrible foreboding that gave her no rest.
Slowly the hours dragged away. She had despatched her urgent message to
Lucas immediately upon her arrival at the Manor, and his prompt reply had
in a measure reassured her. But she knew that he was ill, and she could
not drive from her mind the dread that he might fail her. How could he in
his utter physical weakness hope to master the demons that tore Nap
Errol's turbulent soul? And if Lucas failed her, what then? What then?
She had no city of refuge to flee unto. She and her husband were at the
mercy of a murderer. For that he would keep his word she did not for a
moment doubt. Nap Errol was not as other men. No second thoughts would
deter him from his purpose. Unless Lucas by some miracle withheld him, no
other influence would serve. He would wreak his vengeance with no
hesitating hand. The fire of his savagery was an all-consuming flame,
and it was too strongly kindled to be lightly quenched.

Her thoughts went back to her husband. The date of his return had not
been definitely fixed. The letter had suggested that it should take place
some time in the following week. She had not yet replied to the
suggestion. She put her hand to her head. Actually she had forgotten!
Ought she not to send a message of warning? But in what terms could she
couch it? Lucas might even yet succeed. It might be that even now he was
fighting the desperate battle.

Inaction became intolerable. Sh