hands resting on his
shoulders, and the blue-gray eyes fixed upon his face.

"It's more than all that," he said. "That condition is you--your
safety."

"For me?" she repeated. "For me? Then, won't you go for--for my sake?"

"No."

"Won't you go if you know you will be killed," and suddenly her face
turned scarlet, "and that your life is dear to me?"

"No."

Isabel dropped upon her knees before him.

"This inventor--this man whom you insist on seeing is half insane with
disappointment and anger," she rushed on desperately. "Remember that a
vast fortune, honor, fame were at his finger tips when you--you placed
them beyond his reach by the destruction of the compact. He has sworn to
kill you."

"I can't go!"

"If you _know_ that when you meet one of you will die?"

"No." The answer came fiercely, through clenched teeth. Mr. Grimm
disengaged his right hand and drew his revolver; the barrel clicked
under his fingers as it spun.

"If I tell you that of the two human beings in this world whom I love
this man is one?"

"No."

A shuffling step sounded in the hallway just outside. Mr. Grimm stepped
back from the kneeling figure, and turned to face the door with his
revolver ready.

"Great God!" It was a scream of agony. "He is my brother! Don't you
see?"

She came to her feet and went staggering across to the door. The key
clicked in the lock.

"Your brother!" exclaimed Mr. Grimm.

"He wouldn't listen to me--_you_ wouldn't listen to me, and now--and
_now_! God have mercy!"

There was a sharp rattling, a clamor at the door, and Isabel turned to
Mr. Grimm mutely, with arms outstretched. The revolver barrel clicked
under his hand, then, after a moment, he replaced the weapon in his
pocket.

"Please open the door," he requested quietly.

"He'll kill you!" she screamed.

Exhausted, helpless, she leaned against a chair with her face in her
hands. Mr. Grimm went to her suddenly, tore the hands from her face, and
met the tear-stained eyes.

"I love you," he said. "I want you to know that!"

"And I love you--that's why it matters so."

Leaving her there, Mr. Grimm strode straight to the door and threw it
open. He saw only the outline of a thin little man of indeterminate age,
then came a blinding flash under his eyes, and he leaped forward. There
was a short, sharp struggle, and both went down. The revolver! He must
get that! He reached for it with the one idea of disarming this madman.
The muzzle was t