em. And after all he loved her. If he died she
would be provided for.

The first of the city lamps. He sobbed. Into this street he turned,
into that, expecting each moment to be challenged, for the white saddle
blanket of the cuirassiers stood out conspicuously. At last he had but
a corner to turn. He stopped, slid from the saddle and gave the animal
a cut across the face. The horse reared, then plunged forward at a wild
gallop. Johann staggered along the street, fumbling in his pockets for
his keys.

Gertrude of the opera company was usually in the ballet. To-night she
had left the stage after the first dance. She had complained of a
severe headache, and as the manager knew her worth he had permitted
her withdrawal from the corps. She lived off the Frohngarten, in an
apartment on the second floor, over a cheap restaurant. She was bathing
her temples in perfumed ammonia water, when she heard footsteps in the
corridor, and later the rasp of a key in the lock. As the door opened
she beheld a spectacle which caused her to scream.

"Hush! Gertrude, I am dying.... Brandy! I must talk to you! Silence!"
Johann tottered to a lounge and dropped on his side.

The woman, still trembling with fright and terror, poured into her palm
some of the pungent liquid with which she had been bathing her temples,
and held it under his nose. It revived him. And in a few broken
sentences he made known to her what had happened.

"Gertrude, I am lost!" He breathed with difficulty. "I have lived like
a rascal, and I die like one. But I have always loved you; I have always
been true to you; I have never beaten nor robbed you." His eyes closed.

"O God," she cried, "what shall I do? Johann, you must not die! We
will leave the country together. Johann, you do not speak! Johann!"
She kissed him, pressed him in her arms, regardless of the stains which
these frantic fondlings gathered from his breast. "Johann!"

"Rich," he said dreamily; "rich... and to die like a dog!"

She left him and rushed to the sideboard, poured out a tumbler of
brandy, and returned to his side. She raised his head, but he swallowed
with effort.

"In the lungs," he said. "God! how it burns! Rich; we are rich,
Gertrude; a hundred thousand crowns.... And I am dying!... What a
failure! Curse them all; they never offered to lend a hand unless it led
toward hell! Gertrude... I must tell you. Here; here, put your hand in
this pocket; yes. Draw them out... A hundred thousand c