contrary, let me confess, now
and openly," I whispered, "let me tell you that I--I love you!"

She started, her lips parted at the suddenness of my impetuous
declaration, and stood for a moment, motionless as a statue, pale and
rigid.

Then I felt a convulsive tremor run through her, and her breast heaved
and fell rapidly. She placed her hand to her heart, as though to calm
the rising tempest of emotion within her. Her breath came and went
rapidly.

"Love me!" she echoed in a strange, hoarse tone. "Ah! no, Mr.
Biddulph, no, a thousand times no! You do not know what you are
saying. Recall those words--I beg of you!"

And I saw by her hard, set countenance and the strange look in her
eyes that she was deadly in earnest.

"Why should I recall them?" I cried, my hand still upon her shoulder.
"You are not my enemy, Sylvia, even though you may be the friend of my
enemies. I love you, and I fear nothing--nothing!"

"Hush! Do not say that," she protested very quietly.

"Why?"

"Because--well, because even though you have escaped, they----" and
she hesitated, her lips set as though unable to articulate the truth.

"They what?" I demanded.

"Because, Mr. Biddulph--because, alas! I know these men only too well.
You have triumphed; but yours is, I fear, but a short-lived victory.
They still intend that you shall die!"

"How do you know that?" I asked quickly.

"Listen," she said hoarsely. "I will tell you."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THE DEATH KISS

Sylvia sank into a chair, while I stood upon the hearth-rug facing
her, eager to hear her explanation.

Her hands were clasped as she raised her wonderful blue eyes to mine.
Yes, her beauty was perfect--more perfect than any I had ever seen in
all my wandering, erratic life.

"Why do those men still intend that I shall die?" I asked. "Now that I
know the truth I shall remain wary."

"Ah, yes," she responded. "But they will take you unawares. You do not
know the devilish cunning and ingenuity of such men as they, who live
upon their wits, and are utterly unscrupulous."

"Well, what do they now intend?" I asked, much interested, for it
seemed that she knew very much more than she would admit.

"You have escaped," she said, looking straight into my face. "They
naturally fear that you will tell the police."

"I shall not do that--not at present, at least," I replied. "I am
keeping my own counsel."

"Yes. But cannot you see that while you live you are a menace t