bly in earnest, and, by the quick rising
and falling of the lace upon her bodice, I knew that she was stirred
by a great emotion. She had refused to allow me to stand her friend
because she feared what the result might be. And yet, had she not
rescued me from the serpent's fang?

"Sylvia," I cried, "Sylvia--for I feel that I must call you by your
Christian name--let us forget it all. The trap set by those
blackguards was most ingenious, and in innocence I fell into it. I
should have lost my life--except for you. You were present in that
house of death. They told me you were there--they showed me your
picture, and, to add to my horror, said that you, their betrayer, were
to share the same fate as myself."

"Yes, yes, I know!" she cried, starting. "Oh, it was all too
terrible--too terrible! How can I face you, Mr. Biddulph, after that!"

"My only desire is to forget it all, Sylvia," was my low and quiet
response. "It was all my fault--my fault, for not heeding your
warning. I never realized the evil machinations of those unknown
enemies. How should I? As far as I know, I had never set eyes upon
them before."

"You would have done wiser to have gone into hiding, as I suggested,"
she remarked quietly.

"Never mind," I said cheerily. "It is all past. Let us dismiss it.
There is surely no more danger--now that I am forearmed."

"May they not fear your reprisals?" she exclaimed. "They did not
intend that you should escape, remember."

"No, they had already prepared my grave. I have seen it."

"That grave was prepared for both of us," she said in a calm,
reflective voice.

"Then how did you escape?" I inquired, with curiosity.

"I do not know. I can only guess."

"May I not know?" I asked eagerly.

"When I have confirmed my belief, I will tell you," she replied.

"Then let us dismiss the subject. It is horrible, gruesome. Look how
lovely and bright the world is outside. Let us live in peace and in
happiness. Let us turn aside these grim shadows which have lately
fallen upon us."

"Ah!" she exclaimed, with a sigh, "you are indeed generous to me, Mr.
Biddulph. But could you be so generous, I wonder, if you knew the
actual truth? Alas! I fear you would not. Instead of remaining my
friend, you would hate me--just--just as I hate myself!"

"Sylvia," I said, placing my hand again tenderly upon her shoulder
and trying to calm her, and looking earnestly into her blue, wide-open
eyes, "I shall never hate you. On the