hat ended in passionate
tears.

CHAPTER LIII

THE LAST SKIRMISH

Why had he gone? That was the question that vexed Muriel's soul
through the long hours that followed her return to the Residency.
Lying sleepless on her bed, she racked her weary brain for an answer
to the riddle, but found none. Her brief doubt regarding him had long
since fled. She knew with absolute certainty that it was Nick and
no other who had yelled those furious words, who had made that
panther-spring, who had leaned over her and withdrawn the revolver
from her hold, telling her softly not to cry. But why had he gone just
then when she needed him most?

Surely by now her message had reached him! Surely he knew that she
wanted him, that she had lowered what he had termed her miserable
little rag of pride to tell him so! Then why was he tormenting her
thus--playing with her as a cat might play with a mouse? Was he taking
his revenge for all the bitter scorn she had flung at him in the past?
Did he think to wring from her some more definite appeal? Ah, that was
it! Like a searchlight flashing inwards, she remembered her promise
to him uttered long ago against her will--his answering oath. And she
knew that he meant to hold her to that promise--that he would exact
the very uttermost sacrifice that it entailed; and then perchance--she
shivered at the unendurable thought--he would laugh his baffling,
enigmatical laugh, and go his way.

But this was unbearable, impossible. She would sooner die than suffer
it. She would sooner--yes, she would almost sooner--break her promise.

And then, to save her from distraction, the other side of the picture
presented itself, that reverse side which he had once tauntingly
advised her to study. If he truly loved her, he would not treat her
thus. It would not gratify him to see her in the dust. If he still
cared, as Daisy had assured her he did, it would not be his pleasure
to make her suffer. But then again--oh, torturing question!--had that
been so, would he have gone at that critical moment, would he have
left her, when a look, a touch, would have sufficed to establish
complete understanding?

Drearily the hours dragged away. The heat was great, and just before
daybreak a thunder-storm rolled up, but spent itself without a drop of
rain. It put the finishing touches to Muriel's restlessness. She rose
and dressed, to sit by her window with her torturing thoughts for
company, and awaited the day.

Wit