struck me. I thrust my hand into my coat pocket and
produced the prescription which Pharos had given me for Valerie in
Hamburg, and which, since it had done her so much good, I had been
careful not to let out of my possession.

"Take that, Sir Edward," I said. "I came to make my confession to you
because I deemed it my duty, and because of the load upon my brain,
which I thought it might help to lighten. You will not believe me, so
what can I do? This paper contains the only prescription which has yet
been effectual in checking the disease. It saved the life of Valerie de
Vocxqal, and I can vouch for its efficacy. Show it to the medical
authorities. It is possible it may convince them that I am not as mad as
you think me."

He took it from me, but it was plain to me, from the look upon his face,
that he believed it to be only another part of my delusion.

"If it will make your mind any easier," he said, "I will give you my
word that it shall be placed before the members of the Commission. If
they deem it likely that any good can result from it, you may be sure it
will be used."

He then wished me good-bye, and, with a feeling of unavailing rage and
disappointment in my heart, I left the Offices and passed out into
Whitehall. Once more I made my way into St. James's Park, and reaching a
secluded spot, threw myself down upon the turf and buried my face in my
arms. At first I could think of nothing but my own shame; then my
thoughts turned to Valerie. In my trouble I had for the moment forgotten
her. Coward that I was, I had considered my own safety before hers. If
anything happened to me, who would protect her? I was still debating
this with myself when my ears caught the sound of a footstep on the hard
ground, and then the rustle of a dress. A moment later a voice sounded
in my ears like the sweetest music. "Thank God!" it said, "Oh! thank
God! I have found you."

Her cry of happiness ended in a little choking sob, and I turned and
looked up to discover Valerie, her beautiful eyes streaming with tears,
bending over me.

"How did you find me?" I inquired, in a voice that my love and longing
for her rendered almost inaudible. "How did you know that I was here?"

"Love told me," she answered softly. "My heart led me to you. You forget
the strange power with which I am gifted. Though I did not see you leave
the house, I knew that you were gone, and my instinct warned me not only
where you were going, but what you we