me."

"No, no; I am not worthy of life--or of you. I have been too wicked!"

"I want you to rest now," he said.

"I cannot rest till I have told you everything. I wanted to tell you
the other night, you know, but I was too exhausted. Denis, I am a
criminal--a thief! I have stolen diamonds under cover of the
friendship of another woman. I have received them from another thief
in the mines, and taken them to a man, whose son, a merchant in
Amsterdam, sent me my share of the robbery in cut stones set as jewels.
The rough stolen stones meant nothing to me, but the finished ones
dazzled and maddened me. I cannot describe to you what they did to my
senses, but I was mad at the sight and touch of them. They had power
to benumb every decent feeling in me. For them, I forgot duty. My
poor mother, how she has suffered! I betrayed friendship; I debased
love! Yes, Denis, I debased our love! I meant just to take the joy of
it for a little while, then cast it away when it came to choosing
between you and the stones."

"But you did not."

"No, thank God, I could not! It was stronger than my base passion,
stronger than myself. Oh, Denis, I thank you for your love! It has
saved me from a hell in life, and a hell hereafter, for I think God
will not further punish one so deeply repentant as I."

"You are not going to die, Rosanne," he repeated firmly.

"Do you think I would live and let you link your clean, upright life
with my dark one?" she said sadly. "You do not even know all the
darkness of it yet. Listen: I found I had a power through which I
could hurt others by just wishing them ill--and I used it freely. Ah,
I have hurt many people! It tortures me to think of how many. I have
been lying here for two days and nights trying to undo all the harm I
have done, Denis--willing against the evil I have wished for, praying
for happiness to be given back to every one of them." Her voice grew
faint and far-off. "I have even tried to undo the harm I wished would
come to the two people who tempted me into stealing, Denis. But,
somehow, I feel that it is too late for them. That _something_ in
here"--she touched her heart--"which hurts me so much, tells me I
cannot help those two wretched ones."

Her voice broke off; she was shaken like a reed with a terrible spasm
of suffering. It was as though she were in the clutches of some brutal
giant.

"Denis," she cried faintly, "I feel I am being rent asunder! Part