neri sprang to his feet. "A traitor! a traitor!" he cried.

It was Macari who had betrayed him. Macari was no more Anthony March,
the brother of Pauline, than I was, and Pauline had never had a lover in
the sense in which Macari had used the word.

Pauline was an innocent as an angel. The lie I had come so far to
destroy had dissolved. There was one other question I had to ask. Who
was the man Macari had killed, and what had he to do with Pauline?
Ceneri's face turned ashen as I asked him the question. It was some
moments before he understood that I was the man who had stumbled into
the room. Then he told me all.

The murdered man was Anthony March, the brother of Pauline. As he had
already confessed, Ceneri had spent all the trust-money of which he was
guardian for Pauline and her brother, in the cause of Italian freedom.
When the young man grew up, the time drew near when Ceneri must explain
all and take the consequences. The evil day was delayed by providing him
with money. That money ran out. Ceneri and the two other men, fearful of
the consequences to all of them, decided upon a plan to silence Anthony.
He was to be lured to the house in Horace Street, and to leave it as a
lunatic in charge of a doctor and keepers. But Macari ruined the plot.
He was in love with Pauline, and Anthony had spoken contemptuously of
such a match for his sister. A few insolent words at the house in Horace
Street, and the passionate Italian's knife had found its way into the
young man's heart. It was Ceneri who had saved my life when I stumbled
upon the scene. The third sharer in the tragedy, who had drowned
Pauline's shrieks in a sofa cushion, had since died raving mad in a
cell. That was the story.

I hastened back to England, leaving money behind me to provide a few
comforts for the unfortunate prisoner. I went direct to the little
village where Pauline was staying with Priscilla. I could see that she
remembered me but as a person in a dream. I had to woo her now. Of our
marriage she seemed to have forgotten everything. Though all the old
apathy had disappeared, and her mind had once more awakened in her
beautiful body, she did not remember that. I despaired at last of
winning her, and I determined to bid her good-bye forever. As I sat in
the woods with her for the last time, gloom in my heart, I fell into a
doze. I was awakened by kisses on my cheeks. I sprang to my feet. In
front of me stood Pauline, and looking into her eyes, I s